The Dark Tower
by WalkingWit
Summary: Morgana captures Merlin, imprisoning him in the Dark Tower, and he comes to find they're not so different after all. Both are alone. Mentions of Freya.
1. Chapter 1

**This has been in my head since the episode aired. I needed to take a break from Heartlines and planning that out. Morgana kidnaps Merlin instead, leaving him in the Dark Tower.**

* * *

He was trapped. No matter what he did, he was stuck in this godforsaken prison. The mandrakes hanging from the ceiling dripped what looked like thick black ink. He knew better.

He cursed himself for letting Morgana capture him. Again. She was always there, a dark shadow looming over him. _Darkness to his light._ Well, he wasn't feeling very light at the moment.

Once upon a time he would have thought he could reach out to her and help her. Apologise for the poisoning incident. Now he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and end her and her madness once and for all. No, wait. Her neck was decidedly not pretty. She was evil and mad for vengeance. She wasn't the girl she used to be. Maybe she never was and he had been deceived by her kind face and lovely eyes. Her lovely green eyes that used to be so full of life, were now empty and cold.

Now, swathed in black dresses with a harshness in her face, her eyes were sad. A pang of sympathy struck him, and he shook it off. She was insane, as evidenced by her repeated murder attempts and kidnappings. At least she didn't capture Gwen or Arthur.

Gwen and Elyan were visiting their father's grave, and Arthur had let him have some time off. He needed to collect plants for Gaius, so he went into the forest with his rucksack. Everything was fine until the witch and her stupid little smirk turned up out of nowhere.

"_This is too easy_," she had drawled.

Before he could even make a mad dash away, she raised her hand and an invisible rope bound around him. Her powers had grown, and he was genuinely worried. A small part of him was impressed by her strength. She had come a long way from being the girl terrified of her powers, no thanks to him.

Now all he could do was wait in the tower and listen to the screeches and screams. He knew she was trying to drive him to insanity. Why, though, he didn't know. He feared she'd try to use him against Arthur again. Or perhaps she wanted to torture him one last time before killing him. He'd rather die than do anything to hurt Arthur. Arthur wasn't just his king, he was his friend. He tried not to let those thoughts consume him.

* * *

Minutes. Hours. Days. Merlin had lost track of time. Every time his eyes would close the screams would jolt him awake. He'd hear whispers, cries.

His clothes were spotted with black murk, and he wondered when he'd twisted his scarf off.

"Merlin," a voice came, "Merlin," it repeated.

No. He was dead. He wasn't really there.

"Lancelot?" his voice betrayed him.

He turned and saw his old friend, wearing chainmail like he should. He smiled kindly, and Merlin nearly reached out to grasp at him. He disappeared and Merlin bit his lip, looking around wildly. He scrambled up from his place on the ground.

"Merlin, let's get you out of here," Lancelot appeared again.

Merlin dumbly nodded, eyes never leaving Lancelot's. Lancelot started laughing, and his warm brown eyes looking cold. It was then Merlin noticed the strange glow around him. The laughing grew louder and then suddenly he was gone.

"Lancelot!" he yelled, trying to will him back into existence.

Morgana entered mere minutes later.

"Come. We shall have something to eat," she said pleasantly.

Merlin scowled at her, "I want nothing from you."

"You're wasting away, you stubborn fool," Morgana snorted.

"Since when do you care what happens to me?" Merlin spat.

Her eyes softened, ever so briefly, the look gone in a flash, "Do you want food or not?"

He nodded slowly, and followed her out the door.

* * *

He didn't touch the food. Morgana bit into a strawberry.

"It's not poisoned," she smirked.

He gulped, guilt eating away at him. He couldn't look at her.

"That's all in the past now, Merlin. You did what you thought was right," she tried to smile.

Merlin used to live for those smiles, when her eye would catch his across the banquet hall. Now her smiles looked mangled and so sad. He opened his mouth to say something and his eyes caught sight of the bandages and scars on her wrist.

Morgana seemed not to pay attention to his gaze.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, wondering if the hints of the old Morgana he was seeing was his mind tricking him, or if she really was the same girl she had once been. Spirited, kind, loving, clever, and defender of the innocent. Once upon a time, he would've thought she'd make a better ruler than Arthur.

"I too have suffered, trapped at the bottom of a pit, chained to a wall for two years," Morgana shared.

Merlin looked at her, stunned.

"You did not know?" she said with bitter laugh, "I thought Sir Mordred would have told you."

She spat out _sir_ with contempt. Merlin flinched. Mordred was just another in the line of many who had betrayed Morgana. Merlin poisoned her, Arthur didn't understand her, Gwen chose Arthur, and Uther would have burned her at the stake. Mordred quite literally stabbed her in the back. She was alone.

"He did not," Merlin finally took a bite of chicken.

His stomach grumbled.

Morgana snorted, and for a moment she looked like herself again.

"I had nothing but darkness and a dragon for company, Merlin," she said quietly.

Aithusa. Merlin didn't know Aithusa had been trapped, too. That explained why she couldn't speak and why she looked so frail.

"I was more concerned with what they did to her than to me," she murmured and finished off her fruit.

She looked up at him sharply, "Eat."

He complied, nearly finishing off the entire meal. She then made to drag him back up the stairs.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked again.

"Why? Did you prefer my previous methods?" she smirked wickedly.

Merlin turned red upon remembering how she had him tied up and in agonising pain. He remembered the brushes of surprisingly gentle fingers as she cleaned his wound.

He thought he saw a hit of a blush creep up Morgana's cheeks, but it was dark and he was her prisoner.

* * *

There was more screaming. More cries. More whispers.

"Merlin," came a voice.

"No," he shook his head, inching away from the apparition who looked like Balinor.

"Merlin," he repeated, stepping towards his son.

Tears pricked Merlin's eyes, "Father?"

"Son," Balinor's sad face twisted into something strange and horrifying. He cackled, much like Lancelot did.

Merlin edged away from him, Balinor's laughs and the shrieking mandrakes grating on his sanity. He clasped his hands over his ears. He closed his eyes.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and moved his hands away from his ears slowly. Morgana had crouched down in front of him, concern etched all over her face. Merlin winced, trying to get away. She looked hurt for a moment, and Merlin tried to tell himself it was all an act.

"Merlin, here," she tried to hand him a skin of water.

"No," he shook his head. His voice was hoarse, but he wouldn't take it.

"You were shouting and shaking, please," she pressed the skin into his hand.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, taking the water.

"Why does anyone do anything?" she asked, watching him drink the water.

She took the empty skin from his hand and smiled gently, running her warm fingers through his hair, subtly checking for a sign of fever.

Morgana stood and swept out of the room without another word.

* * *

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, wondering if he was being rescued. He knew Arthur would come for him. Despite the king's insistence that he didn't care a lick for his manservant, Merlin knew he cared.

"Come," Arthur gestured with his hand. He stood behind a pillar.

Merlin followed hesitantly, only for Arthur to draw his sword and slash it at him, laughing.

Merlin ran back, edging towards the far wall. He pressed his back against the cool stone.

He wasn't real. That wasn't really Arthur. Arthur would never do anything like that. They were friends, weren't they?

* * *

This was worse than the apparition of Arthur. She looked so real, so sad, so, so, beautiful. She wore that damned tattered dress, dark hair in limp waves around her pale face. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

"Freya," Merlin croaked.

"You didn't save me," she said sadly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered, remembering how Arthur had killed her.

"Merlin," her lip trembled.

Merlin immediately moved towards her, wanting to hold her in his arms. She was the girl he had loved, who had been taken away from her, all because of Uther and his injustice. Because of Arthur and his blind obedience to his father.

Just as Merlin tried to grasp Freya's wrist, she disappeared.

"Freya," he breathed, "Freya!"

He ran to the door. Morgana had to let him out, he needed to see Freya.

"Freya!" he pounded on the oak, "FREYA!"

Morgana opened the door, eyes narrowed.

"Merlin?" Morgana looked genuinely confused.

Merlin's usually bright eyes were wild and he looked like he'd been to hell and back (literally). He looked downright murderous and broken, all at once.

"Freya, I need her, please, Morgana, I need to see her," he said hurriedly.

Morgana wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and sank onto the floor with him.

"Shhh, you're not making sense. Who's Freya?"

"I loved her," he said desperately, "but Arthur killed her. He killed her because Uther said so."

He was shaking now, crying freely. Morgana frowned and patted his shoulder.

"Yet you willingly serve Arthur?"

"I thought he'd be different from Uther, I thought…"

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay now," Morgana said soothingly. The last time they had embraced was when he was cradling her as she died from his poison.

"I just want Freya, but she's gone. I have no one left. My father, Lancelot, Arthur, Freya," he heaved back a sob.

"You have me," Morgana brushed her fingers across his cheek, "Come. Let's have something to eat."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked once more.

"Because I too have no one left," Morgana replied.

"No," Merlin shook his head, "you have me."

For the first time in years, Morgana Pendragon had a genuine smile on her face. She smiled not out of malice or vengeance or some plot. No. She smiled because she was no longer alone.

"And you, me," Morgana said, standing slowly, helping Merlin up.

Merlin looked at her and wiped the tears off his face, "I really am sorry."

"It's in the past," Morgana smiled again, taking his hand gingerly, "we have a lot of catching up to do."

Merlin nodded slowly, wondering if he should tell her about his magic. He wanted to see Aithusa, to tell her the truth. He should've done that from the very beginning. Maybe things wouldn't have been so messed up if he'd just been honest. He wanted to make things right. What was darkness without light, anyway?

* * *

**So, let me know what you think. Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm amazed at the amount of reviews. Shocked and humbled and just thank you. I didn't think anyone would like this. Just as a note, I'm working under the idea that Morgana thinks she's right and that in her twisted mind (after the imprisonment) this is how she thinks she can make friends. In my mind, Merlin submitted so easily because of all the things he's been through, all he's dealt with. He's gotten dark and angry himself (see: him wanting Arthur to kill Mordred in 5x02) because he's doing what he thinks he's right. Merlin and Morgana are a lot alike.**

* * *

He was twitching, thrashing around in his sleep. His mouth was moving, though no words came out. He kept seeing it over and over again. Freya dying in his arms. Balinor dying in his arms. Will and Lancelot and everyone he'd ever loved, leave him again and again.

Arthur. It was Arthur's fault. He killed Freya. Put Balinor in danger. Will died saving the then-prince. Lancelot sacrificed himself so Merlin wouldn't die, but it was all because of Arthur. _Arthur_ _Arthur_ _Arthur_. All his fault.

He screamed, jolting up in the bed he'd been provided. It was a bit more comfortable than the cot he had at Gaius's. He felt a pang of guilt. Gaius. He needed to make sure Gaius was safe, when all of this was over.

The door to his room opened, and he squinted in the dark.

"Merlin?" came Morgana's voice.

She swept into the room and conjured up a chair. She swiftly sat down and Merlin looked at her.

"Sorry if I woke you, my lady," Merlin said in embarrassment.

"Call me by my name, Merlin. Like you used to," she said gently.

Merlin nodded, not that Morgana could see much in that dark room. She lit a candle with a flick of her eyes and reeled upon seeing the state Merlin was in. He was sweaty, pale, and looked like death itself. His cheekbones jutted out more than usual, and she felt some strange sort of pity for the man who tried to poison her long ago.

"You have a fever," she brushed her hand over his forehead. His sweat clung to her hand.

"I'm fine," Merlin said stubbornly.

"The mandrakes sometimes leave side-effects like nightmares. I am sorry for that, Merlin. You just needed to see how horrible Arthur is," Morgana said.

He nodded once more.

"Get up," Morgana said, pushing the blanket off of him.

Merlin obliged hesitantly. Morgana clicked her tongue.

"Your clothes are soaked through. I'll get you something else to wear," she said, standing to leave the room.

Merlin shrugged off his clothes once she had left, and then covered himself with the thick blanket on the bed.

Morgana returned a few minutes later with a black breeches and a dark grey tunic that matched her nightdress.

"It was all I had," she said, lips quirking into a ghost of a smile. Merlin hiding behind a blanket was all too amusing. How innocent and chaste he must be. She then remembered him crying out for his lost love, and wondered just how much of his innocence was an act.

"Thank you," he took the clothing awkwardly and waited for Morgana to leave the room.

"I'll go get you some wine, to help you sleep," Morgana said quickly, exiting the room.

Merlin watched the door close and put on his new clothes.

* * *

A fire was roaring. The first thing Merlin had noticed was that Morgana's new home wasn't so much a hovel as an old abandoned castle or manor. It was sparsely furnished, with shelves of ingredients for poultices and potions taking up space on the walls. She had an old, crumbling fireplace, and a threadbare rug. Merlin wondered how she could live like this. She had once been Camelot's princess, living with riches and wealth. Her fine dresses were replaced with rough spun black ones, and he wondered if she had made them herself.

Merlin couldn't sleep, not when his dreams were plagued by the ones he'd lost. Morgana wordlessly handed him a cup of wine, which he took gratefully.

She was seated in a chair, looking as regal as one could in a ruined castle.

"Sit," she instructed.

He sat down in the chair closer to the fire, relishing the heat. Why Morgana had chosen a castle so far north, when the tower was further south, he wasn't sure. Part of him thought it was so she could torture him a bit more with the trek. A small smile crossed his lips and he took a sip of the wine.

Morgana said nothing, staring at the fire. Flames danced in her eyes, and she daydreamed of Camelot's destruction. The throne would be hers. It was her birthright, after all.

"You could not sleep?" she asked after what seemed like an hour of silence.

"Nightmares," he said simply.

Her mouth set into a thin line, "I know how horrible they can be."

Merlin could not say anything. All of those potions Gaius had made for her did little to help. She had confided in him and he pushed her away.

"It's all right," she said when she noticed his brow furrow and eyes darken.

He took a long sip from the cup. He glanced at Morgana out of the corner of his eye. She still wore her nightdress, but she was covered in fur blankets. She was shivering slightly and her feet were bare. Yet she still looked like a queen. A queen of the wild, more like. Merlin thought it suited her more than the silk and jewels of Camelot.

The blanket slipped from her frame and Merlin saw the extent of the scars on her arms in the firelight. He let out a small gasp of shock. Her wrists were just the start of it. Her pale arms were flecked with scars and sores, and he was sure her back was much the same.

"Morgana," he whispered, gripping the cup tightly. How could anyone do this to her? Just for having magic?

"This is what people do to our kind," she said, emotionless, pulling the blanket up.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

She looked at him slowly, as if thinking of what to say, "I know."

"What did they do?" he gulped.

"Imagine Uther's wrath times a hundred," she said bluntly. Merlin winced. Uther's treatment of her was restrained, but still horrible. He didn't want to imagine just what they'd done to her. Who could be so cruel?

A silence fell over them. Merlin finished his wine and Morgana wordlessly poured another. She poured one for herself, too. Merlin licked his lips and frowned, mind running on a hundred.

"If you have something to say, say it," Morgana drawled.

"I have magic," Merlin blurted out. Perhaps it was the wine or the physical and mental exhaustion.

Morgana glared at him, "Yet you condemned me to die in Camelot. Sent me away, refused to help me?"

"I'm so sorry," Merlin sputtered helplessly.

Morgana's jaw clenched. She sipped more wine. Arthur did not know. Of this she was sure. Part of her wondered what Mordred had said, or failed to say. No wonder her plans had been thwarted time and time again. She wanted to throttle him and watch him choke for life as he'd watched her gasp for air, for help. She wanted to watch him suffer as she'd suffered, but she wouldn't do it. He was far too useful for that. He'd seen the error of his ways, and she needed an ally. Him having magic was a bonus.

"I suppose it doesn't matter now," she said finally.

He had expected her to kill him then and there, or at least throw him out into the cold and make him walk to Camelot. This was unexpected.

"I was supposed to save Arthur. The Great Dragon said it was my destiny."

Morgana looked at him sharply, realization clear in her eyes, "You hatched Aithusa."

She didn't ask if the Great Dragon told him to kill her.

"How is she?" he asked with wide eyes.

Morgana stood, dropping the blanket on the chair. She moved towards the stairs that led down into what Merlin assumed was a dungeon. He didn't like the thought of Aithusa being trapped.

"She has light and food and water. I usually sleep with her in my chambers," Morgana said, Merlin following her, "I put her here so you wouldn't be scared if you saw her roaming the halls."

Merlin felt a strange surge of affection for the woman in front of him. She had kept Aithusa safe. She didn't want him to be scared. Arthur was wrong. Morgana wasn't too far-gone. She wasn't evil. She was lonely and scared and hurt. He was, too. They weren't so different, after all.

Merlin spoke to Aithusa softly, patting her head. Aithusa nuzzled her face against Merlin's head, practically purring at his touch.

"You're a Dragon Lord," Morgana stated.

"The last. I met my father the day he died," Merlin said simply.

"Arthur," Morgana grunted knowingly.

Merlin gave a curt nod and continued his reunion with his dragon. Morgana mulled over this for a moment. She was the last High Priestess, Merlin the last Dragon Lord. The last of their kind. It was almost right, in a way, that they should be alone, together.

"She saved me," Morgana said softly. She had died, she knew it, but Aithusa had saved her.

"I know," Merlin said, biting his lip.

"You…" Morgana swallowed her question. Why would Merlin have sent her a dragon? The thought was preposterous.

Merlin seemed not to have heard, or at least pretended he didn't. He pressed his cheek to Aithusa's and closed his eyes.

Morgana watched quietly, gulping, "I suppose she really belongs to you."

"No. You've taken care of her for three years, while I've done nothing. She's yours, Morgana," Merlin said.

"Ours, then," Morgana smiled crookedly. All of her smiles were strange. She was trying, though, to smile like a normal person. She wasn't normal, though. Not after what she'd been through. Trapped in a pit for two years. Tortured.

Merlin murmured something to Aithusa in dragon tongue.

"I will teach her how to speak," Merlin said, as a promise to her and Aithusa.

"There's time," she said.

Aithusa moved towards her and she knelt to hug her.

"It's late," she said softly, "you should get some sleep."

"You as well, my lady."

* * *

Merlin woke before her, back in his room. He searched the corridors and never-ending halls for hers. When he thought he found it, he knocked lightly. There was no answer. His feet were cold from the stone floor but he ignored it. He opened the door to find Morgana's arms wrapped protectively around Aithusa. She hadn't been lying when she said she slept with the dragon. She probably felt safer with her.

Merlin retreated from the room just as the early morning light filtered through the dusty window.

* * *

She didn't say what her plans for Camelot were. Not yet. She merely nibbled on some fruit and cheese as they broke their fast. Merlin tore a chunk of bread and stuffed it in his mouth. He was hungry. Aithusa was sprawled on the floor, mauling a bit of chicken.

It was near noon, and Morgana had said little since she'd woken an hour ago. She looked haunted, and Merlin suspected it was her default expression as of late.

Morgana sighed and flicked her eyes towards Merlin.

"You should leave," Morgana said in a low voice.

"What?" he said, confused.

"Go to Camelot. I'm sure your king misses you," Morgana said scathingly.

"I don't miss him," Merlin said, a bit surprised at how easily it flowed from his mouth.

Morgana scowled, "Then why were you crying out his name in your sleep?"

Merlin turned pink.

"It was a nightmare," he stammered.

"I know. You were yelling for him to stop. For Freya," Morgana's scowl faded.

Merlin's eyes darkened at the mention of her.

"You really loved this girl," she didn't ask. She knew.

"More than anything," Merlin replied honestly.

"You should still go back to Camelot," Morgana said decidedly.

"You have a plan?"

* * *

He didn't go back to Camelot. Not yet. A week had passed. Morgana would bring news from the world, how Arthur was looking for him. Merlin would smirk. The facial expression had felt foreign on his face at first. He'd also explore the ruined castle, marvelling at the hidden traps and doorways. He still had nightmares, and Morgana told him to remain here until they had lessened, as not to arouse suspicion upon his imminent return to Camelot. Though wouldn't they expect him to have nightmares after who knows how long at Morgana's cruel hands?

Sometimes he and Morgana would practice spells, just to keep in practice. Morgana's mouth would purse into a thin line. Merlin was powerful, more powerful than her, even. She wasn't pleased.

She raged at him once. For pushing her away. For not helping her. For turning his back on her when they were so similar. They were the same, and he left her. Plates and cups were thrown at him. She bashed him against the wall with such force she was momentarily stunned at her actions. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_, he kept saying. She wanted him to hurt her back. She wanted him to throttle her in anger.

But he looked broken, slumped against the wall, murmuring _I'm sorry._

She helped him up the stairs to her chambers. She undressed him, eyes lingering longer than necessary on his torso and chest that was flecked with dark hair. She drew a bath for him in a tub, heating the water with her magic. She had potions next to the tub, to make sure there was no risk of infection. He was the only person she had left. She'd be damned if she let him die of a stupid infection.

"It's not necessary," Merlin grunted.

"Stop being so stubborn," Morgana said quietly, tugging his breeches down.

Merlin crossed his legs, wincing in pain.

"It's not like I've never seen one before," Morgana said, trying to sound light. Her eyes were averted, though.

She turned her head and helped him into the tub. The gash on his forehead was the worst. Merlin hissed upon the water touching his wounds. She shook her head and wet a cloth. She dabbed it against his forehead, wiping away the blood.

It would have made a funny sight: the king's manservant in a tub, Morgana bent over him, tending to his wounds.

"Scoot," she instructed.

He tried, then bit down a howl of pain. She looked over his shoulder to see that part of his back was red and raw. Had she really done that?

She stood, her back aching. She was tired, so tired. She had to fix this though, to fix him.

"Don't move," she said. She cleaned the cloth and pressed it to his back. He bit his tongue, tensing more. "Just relax."

He took a deep breath, and Morgana put the potion on his back. He flinched, splashing water.

"Don't be such a child," Morgana chastised.

"Sorry," Merlin said, biting his tongue.

He remained silent as Morgana cleaned the rest of his wounds, working quickly and efficiently.

"Come on, then," Morgana said, puzzled as to why Merlin remained in the tub.

"My lady, if you'd leave the room," Merlin said.

"You can barely move," Morgana scowled. She moved towards him and pulled him up by the arms, forcing him to stand. She kept her eyes trained on the floor and passed Merlin a thin blanket. He covered himself and stepped out of the tub.

"I'll need to dress your wounds with bandages. Sit," she said.

She spread the lotions and potions on his back and forehead, deftly wrapping bandages around them.

"Thank you," Merlin said once his wounds had been dressed and his clothes were clean and on his person.

"I shouldn't have hurt you like that," Morgana said stoically.

"I deserved it," Merlin said, own hatred of himself evident in his eyes.

Morgana's heart, had she still had one, would've broken for this boy who had once been her friend. She'd gone to help him save his stupid little village once. That seemed so long ago. Now she couldn't do anything but leave her own chambers before she said something stupid.

When she returned, Merlin was asleep on the edge of her bed.

* * *

It would have been quite a sight. Merlin slept peacefully, one arm wrapped around Aithusa. Morgana was on the other side of the dragon, protective arm around her so her fingers brushed against Merlin's.

Morgana woke first, startled to find her sharing a bed with extra company. She wouldn't let herself smile at the state of disarray Merlin's hair was in. She couldn't grow too attached. Spell or not, he had magic and could break out of it if he realised he could.

So she was amazed to find herself leaning across Aithusa to brush his hair away from his forehead. She was even more amazed to hear him mumble her name in his sleep. She pulled her hand away as if she'd been burned.

He would have to return to Camelot. The further away he was, the more easily she could plot her attack**.**

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting, reviewing! I really appreciate feedback. Please review and let me know what you think.**

* * *

He still hadn't left. Morgana had been thinking of ways to get Merlin back to Camelot without arousing much suspicion, but she'd always find something wrong with her plan. Everything needed to be perfect so she could claim the throne that was rightfully hers. She also needed to make sure Merlin wouldn't get himself killed by doing something stupid. She peered at him as he rubbed Aithusa's snout, sitting in front of the fire. She let a small smile cross her face before she shook her head. No, Merlin was cleverer than he let on. She'd learned that the hard way. She was just lucky she hadn't killed him else she'd be without an ally.

Merlin didn't seem to mind the postponement of his return so much as he'd spend his days with Aithusa and his nights practicing spells with Morgana. Every once in a while, Morgana would find Merlin asleep on the hard floor with Aithusa by his side while she slept on the couch. Other times they'd be sprawled across her bed, the baby dragon between them. She didn't know if she could sleep alone once Merlin left. At least she'd have Aithusa.

She shoved his old clothes at him.

"What's this for?" he raised a brow.

"Why would I have given you new clothes if I wanted to kill you?" Morgana asked.

"Why would you have washed and mended my old clothes if you wanted to kill me?" Merlin quipped in amusement.

_Damn it. _

Morgana scowled, "Don't make me kill you now."

Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes and took the clothes from her outstretched arms.

"I s'pose I could go roll around in some mud outside," Merlin said.

Morgana nodded, waiting for him to change.

"M'lady, if you'd leave," Merlin looked at her strangely.

"Oh, right," Morgana blinked quickly and stalked out of the room.

Merlin let out a small laugh. She'd been acting odder than usual since she decided to send him back to Camelot to kill Arthur. Perhaps she was nervous that her plan wouldn't work.

Merlin took off the grey tunic and dark breeches, donning his red shirt and dark brown trousers once more. At least his boots were in relatively good shape. He didn't like walking around barefoot like Morgana did. He'd asked her once why she didn't like to wear shoes, even outside, and she'd replied that the quieter her feet were, the less likely she was to be caught.

He opened the door to walk down the corridor and down the stairs to the make-shift sitting room. He instead found Morgana pacing back and forth, biting her nails.

"M'lady?" he said.

She whirled around, giving him a once over.

"Come," she said, walking down the stone steps.

Merlin had no choice but to follow her outside. It had rained earlier that morning, leaving the ground wet and slippery.

"Mess your hair up," Morgana bit her lip, pointing at his head.

Merlin ran a hand on the top of his head. Morgana rolled her eyes.

"You're supposed to look like you've been to hell and back," she moved closer to him.

She raked her fingers through his hair, nails nearly digging into his skull. He tried not to wince at her forcefulness. She ruffled his hair and stepped back to look at her handiwork. He didn't look like he was harmed at all. He looked like he'd had a good and hard romp. Without warning, she swept to the ground, picked up some mud, and wiped it on his tunic.

"What was the point of washing it, then?" Merlin asked as she smeared more mud on him.

Morgana glared at him and he pursed his lips.

"You need some on your trousers," Morgana kicked some mud at him, then wiped the remainder on his cheeks. She looked at her work and smiled crookedly. Now he looked like he had a romp in the mud.

"There," she brushed her thumb over his cheek.

"What's the plan?" Merlin asked.

"You're to stumble towards Camelot's gates, begging to see Arthur. Once he sees you, faint at the sight of him," Morgana started, still caressing his cheek. "When he and Guinevere ask what happened to you, tell them that I found you in the woods and knocked you unconscious."

"That's the truth," Merlin's voice had gone hoarse and Morgana was standing too close.

"Then you'll tell him of how I hurt you, over and over again. How I made you scream," she continued.

"Shall you make me scream, my lady, to make the tale more genuine?" he asked in a low voice.

Morgana smirked, pressing her index finger to his lips. He had always been a bit cheeky, but this was new. She was almost impressed.

"That's not necessary," she murmured, then leaned into his ear. "Tell them you escaped by loosening your ropes when I wasn't looking. You took a pot and hit me, rendering me unconscious long enough for you to escape."

"As my lady commands," Merlin nodded slightly.

"Excellent," Morgana's mouth lightly brushed up against his ear.

He took a sharp intake of breath, and Morgana's hand cupped his cheek gingerly so mud wouldn't wipe off on her hand.

"Meet me in the woods just outside Camelot in two nights for more instructions," she pulled away. Her smile was sweet but there was a glimmer of madness in her eye.

* * *

Had Arthur Pendragon always been so stupid? Merlin was aware the King was a prat, but this was too much.

He'd done as Morgana instructed. As soon as the guards dragged him into the throne room before Arthur, he'd given a relieved whimper and smile before fainting. He'd woken up in his room, Gaius sitting on an old wooden chair.

"Gaius," he croaked.

"You gave us quite a fright," Gaius offered a wrinkly smile.

"Sorry," Merlin said apologetically.

"You've been missing for weeks, Merlin," his smile faded.

"Has it been that long?" Merlin tried to sit up, propping himself on his elbows.

"Arthur wishes to see you once you are well," Gaius informed him.

"I'm well now," Merlin said.

Gaius raised a brow, not quite believing him, but helped him out of bed nonetheless. He left to let Merlin change into a clean tunic and trousers.

* * *

Arthur Pendragon was a gullible fool. Merlin didn't have much issue with Gwen. She wouldn't have ever been Queen if Arthur hadn't taken what was rightfully Morgana's.

All Merlin had to do was spin a tale of how Morgana had captured him and tortured him with magic, keeping him roped and chained. He told him that she'd give him food and water and comforting words only to hurt him again and again.

Merlin looked at Arthur, tears welling in his bright blue eyes. Gwen sat next to Arthur, looking as if she was about to weep. Arthur himself was gripping the armrests of his throne tightly.

"We will find Morgana, you have my word," Arthur promised.

"Thank you, sire," Merlin bobbed his head.

"Do you recall where she kept you?" Arthur asked.

"No," Merlin shook his head, "all I know is that it was in the woods somewhere beyond Queen Annis's lands and that I happened upon Camelot from chance and pure luck."

He lied.

* * *

Arthur had offered him to take some time off, but Merlin refused. He went about his chores. Polish armour, wipe boots, serve meals, follow the knights around. It took all his will not to sneer as he played the fool.

Mordred approached him after training that day.

"I'm glad you're alright, Merlin," the Druid boy smiled at him.

"Thanks," Merlin nodded curtly.

_Traitor. Liar. Backstabber (literally). But wasn't he one, too?_

"I know Morgana can be incredibly cruel," Mordred began.

"Look, I don't really want to talk about it," Merlin tried to smile, "I'd like to forget it ever happened."

"Of course," Mordred said quickly.

"I think Gwaine's calling for me," Merlin excused himself to walk over to the drunkard.

Gwaine was never one for titles or nobility. Maybe he could be swayed to Morgana's cause.

* * *

Merlin could've laughed at how useless the guards were. They could catch someone trying to get in (sometimes) but rarely someone trying to get out.

He decided against borrowing a horse, and instead made his way past the villages and into the forest. There were no stars out that night, and the moon was blocked by clouds.

Merlin's eyes glowed as he tried to find a path. He wasn't sure how long he'd been walking or how far he'd gotten. All he knew was that the towers of Camelot looked like dots on the horizon.

He made his way up a hill when a figure emerged from behind the trees.

"Took you long enough," she drawled, arms crossed across her chest.

"I had chores, my lady," Merlin bit the inside of cheek.

She was wearing a dark cloak hooded with fur, beneath that a simple black dress. Merlin was surprised she was wearing shoes, dark brown boots, to be exact. The boots had no heel, which he expected was so her footsteps would be quiet and so she could walk without being tired.

"So I take it Arthur believed you?" Morgana asked.

"He only asked if I knew where you kept me," Merlin informed her.

Her eyes narrowed, "And?"

"I told him all I knew was that it was beyond Annis's lands," Merlin told her.

She smirked, an expression he recognised all too well on her face.

"Well done," she said almost begrudgingly.

Merlin smiled, "Thank you, my lady."

"Now that you're back, you must not try anything for a few weeks as not to arouse suspicion. I've brought this," she reached into her cloak and removed two bottles of poison, "two drops of this will put him in agonising pain, while this one in his ear will end his life. But first, try something that will make it all look like an accident. You tend to his horse, do you not?"

Merlin took the vials wordlessly and nodded, "Yes. Muck out the stables, too."

"Cut the reins, do something to the saddle, I don't care how you do it, just do it," Morgana instructed him hurriedly.

Merlin nodded.

"Wait a few weeks," she repeated for good measure.

"I understand," Merlin nodded. He placed the vials in his pocket before speaking again, "How is Aithusa?"

Morgana smiled fleetingly, "She's fine. I think she misses you, though. You can talk to her better than I can."

"Can I see her?" Merlin asked, since he hadn't seen her in two days.

Morgana's eyes shifted. They were midway between Camelot and her hideout. No one would notice if Merlin was missing for a night, would they?

She shook her head, "It's too dangerous. I'm sorry. I'll send a letter, encoded, in a week's time."

Merlin dropped his gaze to the forest floor.

"Yes, my lady."

Morgana reached out and grabbed his chin, making him look her in the eye.

"Don't disappoint me," she said.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, looking into her eyes.

* * *

He had been going through the motions. Do chores. Make fun of Arthur. Help Gaius. Act a fool. Make stupid jokes. Go to the tavern with Gwaine and the knights. Actually, that last bit wasn't too bad.

A week passed, and Merlin finally received a piece of parchment. He was befuddled as to why there was no writing, then smacked his forehead. Of course. His eyes glowed and words appeared.

_Waiting right outside gates. Come now. _

Merlin scrambled off of his uncomfortable bed (the one Morgana had provided him with was more comfortable). He tugged on his boots and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it. It only served to muss his hair up even more.

He crept past the sleeping Gaius and took off towards the gates, easily sneaking past. Honestly, it was no wonder Camelot was under attack so often, with guards like these.

Morgana was right outside the gates, wearing trousers, a loose tunic, and her travelling cloak. Her hood was pulled over her head, but Merlin knew it was her.

"Come," she said as a way of greeting.

Merlin followed her as she led the way through the woods silently.

* * *

His arms wrapped around Aithusa in a hug. The small dragon, who wasn't so small nuzzled Merlin's shoulder affectionately. Morgana knelt down next to Merlin and patted Aithusa's head gently.

"She missed you," Morgana said quietly.

"I missed her, too," Merlin glanced at Morgana from the corner of his eye.

She looked sombre, somehow. Not serious or in the midst of plotting or smirking or cackling, but genuinely sad.

The night went by too quickly. There were goblets of wine and food and Aithusa speaking to Merlin a bit and Morgana smiling that queer, sad smile of hers, and Merlin not thinking to leave until it was near dawn.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily and looked around. Aithusa was fast asleep on the rug. next to him. Morgana sat on the couch, feet tucked underneath her. Her eyes were closed and Merlin decided it would be best he leave.

He stood and took a step towards the door.

"Goodbye, Merlin," Morgana's voice was soft, her eyes still closed.

"Bye, Morgana," Merlin reached the door.

"Don't disappoint me," she murmured.

"I promise, I won't," Merlin swore.

She opened her eyes, "I know."

She smiled sleepily, the closest she'd gotten to a genuinely content smile since Morgause had died.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for your continued support and lovely reviews. I may up the rating to 'M' for an upcoming chapter, or I could tone it down to keep it at a 'T'. Let me know which you all prefer. I really appreciate feedback.**

* * *

This wasn't what he had expected. Merlin sat in the dungeons, head resting against the cold stone walls. How many times had he been tossed into the dungeons, now? He'd lost count.

Arthur's horse had a scare, a terrible fright, and the King was sent toppling off, hitting his head on the ground. Merlin had hopped off of his own horse and run after the King, shouting for Guinevere to call for help. The Queen slid off of her horse and helped Arthur onto Merlin's so they could get him back to Camelot.

Guinevere called for the court to assemble and began to interrogate anyone who had been in the stables to find how on earth Arthur could have fallen, and why the saddle had been unsafe.

Tyr, a humble, plump stable worker had been questioned until he was near tears. Merlin frowned, knowing Tyr had nothing to do with it. Where was justice if the wrong people were always blamed? Had Uther's madness crept into Gwen after three years as Queen?

Merlin, unable to contain himself, stepped forward, blocking Tyr from the Queen's view. He tried not to snarl at the sight of Gwen sitting on someone else's throne. She should have run off with Lancelot when she had the chance; she would have been better off.

"It wasn't Tyr, can't you see that?" he gestured to the innocent man.

"Then who do you suggest, Merlin? Someone has to have done it," Guinevere sighed.

"Me," Merlin blurted out.

Gwaine scoffed, "Merlin, don't be ridiculous."

"Merlin doesn't have a murderous bone in his body," Percival piped up.

Mordred remained quiet, watching the scene unfold before him.

"If you're going to throw an innocent man in jail, it may as well be me," Merlin stood with his shoulders squared, chin up.

"Merlin, you know I can't throw you in the dungeons for no reason," Gwen bit her lip.

_Hasn't stopped the Pendragons before, has it?_

"Then for being too cheeky," Merlin tried to smile.

So he was dragged out of the throne room, tossed into the dungeon. Not for being cheeky, though, but for attempted treason. No one believed he'd actually try to hurt the King. After all, he was a faithful servant and friend. No one would ever suspect him.

Merlin closed his eyes, deciding sleep would be better than staring at the wall.

* * *

"Merlin," a soft voice came, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His eyes opened immediately, and he was startled to find large green eyes staring into his blue ones.

"Morgana?" he whispered, voice hoarse.

How the hell did she get into the dungeon?

"Simply knocked out the guards. They won't even remember what happened," she answered his unasked question.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, sitting up.

Morgana removed her hand from his shoulder and pursed her lips.

"You said you wouldn't disappoint me. Arthur lives," she said blankly.

Merlin made a face, "It's not safe for you to be here."

"Your name will be cleared tomorrow morning. I've made it so all the saddles for every one of the knights' horses are damaged. Call it a work defect," she said, sounding pleased with herself.

Merlin's mouth moved, though no sound came out. How had she done that all in the span of a day and a half? How had she known he was in the dungeons? Did she have a vision?

"I'll take your blubbering like a fish as a thank you," she stood slowly.

Merlin scrambled up to stand as well. There was a time when she was in the very same cell, tossed there by Uther because she had it in her to fight.

"Thank you," he said earnestly.

"Good job, Merlin," she nodded.

"I landed myself in here," he snorted.

"Yes, but now no one will doubt your loyalty," she gave a fleeting smile and disappeared out of the cell and towards the exit they used to help Mordred escape so long ago.

* * *

"I knew it couldn't have been you," Arthur said by way of apology the next day.

Merlin was already going about his daily work as if nothing had happened. Guinevere had apologised to him personally, offering him some cake as if that made everything better. He recalled that Gwen had been the first friend he'd made in Camelot. That was Gwen, now he was dealing with Guinevere.

"Thank you, sire," Merlin smiled tensely.

"You should've heard the ruckus Gwaine caused the moment he knew I was awake," Arthur laughed, "I fear the knights are more loyal to you than they are to me."

"Preposterous," Merlin laughed shortly.

_The knights are more loyal to you than they are to me. _Could that be true? Lancelot was dead, no thanks to the King, but Gwaine was surely his friend. Percival was close with Gwaine, so that made two possibly to be on his side. But Morgana put Gwaine through hell when she had claimed her throne three years past.

Merlin frowned. Elyan would be loyal to his sister, no doubt. Leon would defend Camelot until his dying breath, for Arthur, of that he was sure. Then again, Merlin had once been willing to lay down his life for Arthur's and the future of Albion. How things had changed.

"Merlin, you all right?" Arthur asked, concerned.

"Fine, sire," he offered a pained smile.

* * *

"Your King will not miss you?" Morgana asked, smirking.

"I have no king," Merlin replied sharply.

Morgana's smirk widened. She had a book open in front of her as she ground up bits of herbs and leaves. Merlin was standing across from her, stirring a thin paste in a wooden bowl. He was staying for dinner. No one would miss him anyway.

Aithusa had gone hunting now that she was big enough. Sometimes she came back with birds she'd caught.

"When did you start cooking for yourself?" Merlin asked suddenly. She'd grown up accustomed to others doing everything for her, and here she was preparing a dressing for whatever Aithusa brought back. Guinevere, who had once been a servant, could barely walk a few feet to get her own papers. He remembered Sefa and his head hurt a bit.

"After you poisoned me. I couldn't risk it," Morgana answered, not looking him in the eye.

It was as if she'd stabbed him in the heart.

"It's in the past," she said, noticing his pained expression.

"I'm so-"

"If you apologise again I will not hesitate to use this," she held the knife she was using to cut the herbs in front of her.

Merlin chuckled slowly.

"What ever happened to Sefa?" he asked suddenly.

"Another object of your affections?" Morgana asked with a raised brow. What was it that drew Merlin to servant girls? First Gwen, now Sefa. She assumed his Freya was a servant somewhere, somehow, too.

"A friend," Merlin said, stabbing the bowl with the wooden spoon.

"She's somewhere safe and far from Camelot," Morgana said reassuringly. She was sorry her father had died. He had been loyal, and Sefa was useful.

Merlin let out a sigh of relief. She bit her lip, looking at him. He'd grown up. He wasn't as scrawny as he'd once been, that much was obvious when she had tended to his wounds. He didn't smile as much, he was quieter, and so, so sad. Maybe he'd been like that before, too, but she'd been tricked by his cheery façade. This newer, sombre Merlin had first turned up years ago. She did the math in her head, remembering the escaped prisoner Uther had wanted captured. She had been reportedly a beautiful girl who turned into a monster at night. _Freya_. Morgana's eyes flashed with realisation.

"Tell me about her," Morgana said quietly.

"Sefa?" Merlin asked in confusion.

"No," she didn't roll her eyes, "Freya."

Merlin paled and looked as if the air had been sucked from his lungs.

"I promised I'd never leave her, that I'd take care of her. I failed her," he said lowly, looking anywhere but at Morgana.

"Arthur killed her when she was in her beast form," Morgana said.

Merlin looked at her curiously.

"I remember how upset Uther was that a monster had gone running free," Morgana said sourly.

"She wasn't a monster!" Merlin growled, "She was a Druid. I tried to conjure up a flower for her but it was a strawberry," his voice grew small.

Morgana was taken aback at the ferocity in Merlin's voice and the haunted look on his face. So the girl had known about his magic.

"She knew," Morgana's mouth set into a firm line, "Who else had you told?"

"Will, from Ealdor," Merlin started, "Lancelot figured it out. Nimueh knew. My father. Gaius knows. I told Aggravaine before I killed him."

_Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, old enough to go at any moment. _It left a bitter taste in her mouth to know he didn't trust her at all, even when she'd been relatively innocent and so frightened. She didn't think he'd have it in him to kill someone, but he was full of surprises.

"What do you mean 'figured it out'?" she asked curiously, ignoring her stomach clenching. She had liked Lancelot well enough. She was sad to see him go.

"He wasn't as blind as Arthur, that's for sure. He saw me use magic in a battle, and put two and two together."

Morgana snorted.

Merlin bit his lip, "Mordred knows."

Morgana's head snapped up to look at him. Her mouth went agape.

"He's known since we helped him escape Camelot," he clarified.

That was a punch to the gut. Morgana dropped the knife she'd been holding and held onto the edge of the table. How much longer did she have to be lied to? How many more times would she be betrayed? How many times would she be abandoned, time and time again?

"Morgana," Merlin said in concern.

"Get out," she said quietly. He'd leave her just like the rest of them.

"I'm sorry, I just, I'm trying to be honest."

"Get out!" she screamed, staring at the table. Her shoulders shook as she took deep breaths.

Merlin stood rooted in his spot.

"What part of 'get out' don't you understand?" she snapped, looking at him with wild eyes.

"I'm not going to leave, not when you're like this," Merlin looked genuinely worried.

"GET OUT!" Morgana screeched.

Merlin moved around the table to stand behind her. He hesitantly placed his hands on her shoulders. She flinched, trying to make him let go.

"Don't touch me! Let go!" she fought to get free.

That only made Merlin hold onto her tighter. She turned around to face him and slammed her hands against his chest.

"LEAVE! GET OUT!" she punched him. If she hadn't have dropped the knife she would have stabbed him. She convinced herself she would have.

"I'll kill you," she threatened, though it sounded hollow to her own ears.

Merlin didn't say anything. He sank down onto the ground with her as she had a fit. Tears welled in her eyes but she refused to cry. He held her while she fought back sobs and struggled to escape his touch. She hit him once for Arthur, for Gwen (no, Guinevere), for Uther, for her dead parents, for Morgause, for Mordred, and for him.

Her slaps grew weaker with each one, until she grew tired like a petulant child.

By the time she had calmed down her hands were fisted around Merlin's tunic, head resting on his chest. His legs were outstretched in front of him and she sat on his knees, as light as a feather. He rocked back and forth, trying to sooth her.

"I'm always alone, Merlin," she murmured.

"Not anymore," he gently rubbed her shoulder in comfort. His chin rested on her head, and she was clinging to him because he was all she had left.

_I don't want to be alone anymore, _she had said once. He had turned her away once, and he wouldn't do that to her again.


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I'm absolutely gutted due to the finale. I've decided not to up the rating, but may instead post extended bits as a separate story for those who wanted the M rating. Thank you for reading, reviewing, etc. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!**

* * *

Something was wrong with Merlin, and Arthur wanted to know what. His manservant hadn't been quite himself lately. He was less energetic, complained less, and made fun of him less than he ever had. He expressed his concern to his wife, who smiled sadly.

"Arthur, he was kept prisoner by Morgana for who knows how long, and then made a long trek home," Guinevere wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"What did she do to him?" Arthur wondered aloud.

"Who knows? This is Morgana we're talking about," she answered.

"Why didn't she kill him, if she hates him so much?" Arthur asked seriously.

Guinevere shrugged, "Maybe he escaped before she got the chance. Maybe she still has some of the old Morgana in her. She was the one who wouldn't let Merlin go to Ealdor alone."

That was so long ago, the thought made her wistful for their youth.

Arthur looked up at her from his seat, "Do you think she can be reasoned with?"

"I don't know, Arthur. I really don't know," Gwen sighed and pressed a kiss to Arthur's cheek.

* * *

Merlin moved the rag over the boot, automatically going through the motions.

"Merlin," Arthur walked into Gaius's home without a knock.

"Yes, m'lord?" he looked up.

Arthur made a face at being addressed as such by Merlin, of all people.

"I'd like to talk to you," he said.

"We're talking now," Merlin quipped, almost sounding like his old self. Almost.

"What did Morgana do to you?" Arthur asked bluntly.

"Nothing too terrible," Merlin replied blithely, hoping Arthur wouldn't notice how forced his cheer sounded.

"Merlin," Arthur paused, looking closely at his manservant, "I want to help."

"I'm fine, Arthur. Really," he smiled.

It was a pained smile, a fake one. Arthur had learned how to read people over the years, and that was the exact same smile Morgana started to plaster on her face when the Witchfinder had come to Camelot, and as her sanity unraveled. Arthur cringed inwardly, feeling stupid for not realising she needed help when she did. Now magic had hardened her heart to the world.

"I know she was cruel to you," Arthur said slowly.

"It's in the past," Merlin brushed it off. He tried not to frown at his assumption that Morgana was cruel.

"Magic has corrupted her soul and now she wants her revenge. It's my fault. I'm sorry," Arthur said solemnly.

Merlin's fingers palms itched, wanting to smack the prat king upside the head.

"Maybe it's not the magic that corrupted her," Merlin suggested quietly, all pretence gone.

Arthur tilted his head, "What do you mean?"

"We turned our backs on her, Arthur," he gnawed at his lip, lost in thought, "we're as much to blame as she is."

"She's filled your head with nonsense. It's clear she did quite a number on you," Arthur looked to be immediately concerned.

Merlin shook his head, "Forget I said anything."

* * *

How many times had he taken a sword to one of his limbs for Arthur? Or an arrow, perhaps? The battle happened out of nowhere, bandits swarming around them. It was an arrow this time, but he kept going.

Merlin cursed to himself. This was one way for the Once and Future King to die, but it wasn't the way it had to be. He picked up a sword and worked his way through the bandits, one by one, in an attempt to reach Arthur.

"ARTHUR!" he yelled, only to take a rock to the side of his head.

Everything went black.

* * *

When he woke up he was behind a tree. He'd been knocked out in a clearing. Odd. He tried to move and found it to be a horrible idea. He winced and reached his hand to his forehead. Dried blood. His stomach was in pain as well. He looked down to see blood seeping through his shirt. Brilliant. Why is it he got beaten up no matter which Pendragon he was helping?

He forced himself up from his spot, realising that he'd been left by the knights and Arthur. He laughed bitterly from the shock and surprise. Someone must've cared at least a bit to move him, though. His money was on Gwaine.

* * *

Morgana's eyes went wide when she opened the door to her dwelling. Merlin stood in front of her with an ashen face and blood soaked clothes that were covered in dirt.

He limped forward and she caught him by his arm reflexively, wrapping her arm around his waist to help him in. He hissed in pain and she bit her tongue to keep from asking what the hell had happened.

He couldn't make it up the stairs, of this she was sure. She looked around the once great hall and frowned. She moved him to a ratty old divan and he winced when lay down, but kept his head up. It's then she saw the blood clumped on the side of his head. Her mouth went dry.

She moved to the cupboards to gather poultices, pastes, and potions. Merlin's eyes were closed and she feared he'd suffered a concussion.

"Merlin," she prodded his shoulder gently.

"Hmm?" he opened his eyes blearily.

"Can you take your shirt off?" she asked.

"Why that's unseemly, my lady," he tried to joke.

Morgana's face hardened, "Don't try to be funny. Not when you're in such a state."

Merlin narrowed his eyes in confusion and murmured an apology.

He moved his hands to the hem of his shirt and tried to lift it up, only to cringe.

Morgana took the shirt and a dagger, cutting through the cloth. She tore the rest open, revealing the arrowhead lodged in his side. She frowned and brought the boiled wine and water. She knelt in front of him, holding a cloth.

"This will hurt," she said.

"Not even going to humour me?" Merlin raised a brow.

She shook her head. She dipped the cloth in the hot wine before dabbing it on Merlin's side. He scrunched up his eyes in pain and she was glad to see most of the bleeding had stopped. She took her dagger and stuck it between his skin and the arrowhead, popping it out. The hole in his side started to bleed, and she covered it with her hand. She could stop the bleeding, at least. She murmured a spell Morgause had taught her and the blood vanished, leaving only the dried wound.

"You're good at this," Merlin complimented. He'd never mastered any of the healing spells.

"Thank you," she said simply, gently tilting his head with soft fingers.

Nothing was lodged in his head, but there was quite a bit of blood. She wiped most of it away with a cloth dipped in the steaming hot water. She found the source of the blood near his temple and recited the spell.

She dipped a finger in one of the pastes she had prepared long ago. Her hand hovered over Merlin's ribs and her heartbeat quickened. She lightly brushed the medicine over the injury.

"This should help the scars," she said.

"Did it help with yours?" Merlin asked quietly, his finger brushing against her scarred wrist.

She nodded slowly, "Yes."

"Morgana," Merlin started.

"I don't want to talk about what happened, Merlin. It's too unpleasant," she tried to smile.

Merlin nodded slightly in understanding, but couldn't really nod normally as he'd been bludgeoned with a heavy rock.

Morgana continued to apply the paste and then a poultice to his scars. He opened and closed his hand slowly, and closed his eyes. She frowned when she saw he still had the scars she'd inflicted on him in her madness.

"Merlin," she said, trying to get him to open his eyes, "Merlin," she touched his shoulder.

He opened one eye, "Can't a man get some sleep around here?"

He smiled lazily and Morgana's nostrils flared.

"Not when you could have bloody concussion you can't," she said through clenched teeth.

"I'm fine, my lady. You patched me right up," Merlin's smile faltered.

Morgana shook her head, eyes wide.

"What if one day I can't?" she asked. She sounded angry but the worry was thick in her voice.

"I'm not…I won't…" Merlin licked his lips.

Morgana cut a clean cloth and pressed it to his ribs, not daring to look at his face.

"You show up here bleeding and pale," her voice cracked slightly.

"I'm fine," Merlin said again, "All in a day's work."

She looked up at him sharply since she was still kneeling before him, green meeting blue, "As horrible as I think Arthur is, I never thought he'd leave you to die."

Merlin's eyes darkened and he looked at her.

"Neither did I," he said honestly, "but I'm just a worthless servant."

Morgana cupped his cheek with her hand.

"No. You're not just a worthless servant. You've been keeping his sorry arse safe. Without you, he'll be lost," Morgana's eyes searched his face.

"How am I supposed to infiltrate Camelot and give him the poison when they think I'm dead or missing?" Merlin asked, gulping.

"You return, broken and hurt, but you return," she got that far-off look in her eye again, "Arthur will be thrilled and relieved, his conscience eased. Then you destroy him," she said.

Merlin nodded and took the hand that Morgana had rested on his cheek. Her fingers curled around his and he moved her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles.

Morgana blinked rapidly, "Don't you dare scare me like that again."

"I won't," he said softly.

She didn't bite his head off, try to choke him, or stab him with the bloodied dagger. He took that as a sign it was okay to take her other hand and kiss it. He inclined his head towards hers, blue eyes waiting for her permission or protest. When she said nothing, he pressed his lips to her cheek and her heart stopped beating. Or maybe the ice wall surrounding it started to melt.

"Merlin," she mumbled, trying to sound stern, "you're obviously unwell."

Merlin let go of her hands and nodded, as if sense had returned to him.

"I apologise, my lady. It won't happen again," he looked incredibly putout.

"See that it doesn't," her words sounded hollow, even to her own ears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for the lovely reviews! I really think Merlin and Morgana are both sort of lost souls, and that given the chance, could've been wonderful together. Even Katie (or Colin) in a cast commentary referred to them as kindred spirits, so...**

* * *

Merlin was missing and Gwaine was wondering why the hell no one else seemed to care besides a select few. Percival had carried Merlin behind the tree when the fight was over, and Gwaine had tried to convince Arthur to bring him home, to no avail.

"Yes, Gwaine?" Arthur asked from his place at the round table.

"Why did you leave Merlin?" he asked what the other knights had been thinking, "Correction: why did you make us leave him?"

Arthur looked around the table and was met with Mordred's startlingly similar blue eyes. He bit his tongue.

"I had to ensure everyone else's safety. Merlin will find his way back," Arthur tried to sound convincing.

"He's not a bloody dog, _sire_," Gwaine practically spat.

"You will show respect to your king," Arthur said in a low, level voice.

"Show respect to the rest of us first," Gwaine said, standing from the table.

"Gwaine," Arthur called after him, "I understand your distress. Return once your temper is under control."

Gwaine cast him a sideways glance, "Yes, sire."

* * *

Arthur sat at his writing table, lost in thought. Where was Merlin? He'd sent out a group of knights to where they had been attacked and he was nowhere to be found. What was he thinking, leaving him? He'd had a lapse in judgment and regretted it deeply. Where could he have gone? Ealdor was too far away. Camelot was the only place…Arthur's eyes widened. Morgana. What if she had captured him again?

Though, did Merlin really mind being captured by her? It seemed to happen quite often. He didn't seem to hold any outward malice towards the witch. It was possible he was merely trying not to bother anyone with what had happened to him, whatever had happened, because he was selfless like that.

He slumped in his chair, trying to wrack his brain for something, anything. Morgana had called Merlin a lover, not a fighter, long ago. At the time he thought it was to goad him into helping Gwen, who'd been accused of sorcery. Maybe there had been more behind her words? It was Morgana who got mad at him for thinking to let Merlin go to Ealdor alone. Merlin brought her flowers once or twice, maybe more. He had a soft spot for the Lady of Camelot, but that was years and years ago. Surely he knew she wasn't the same girl anymore.

Guinevere entered the room, footsteps small and graceful.

"Arthur?" she moved to sit on the bed, "are you alright?"

"Just thinking," he replied.

Merlin, or Morgana, even, would have told him not to hurt himself.

"About?" she asked.

"Merlin. Morgana. They were friends once," he sighed.

"We all were," Gwen bit her lip and looked away.

"Guinevere?" Arthur knew that look. It was the 'I know something you don't' look.

"Merlin and Morgana were different," she said, still not looking at him.

"Different how?" Arthur clenched his fists.

"At first I thought Merlin had a little crush on Morgana and that it was just that, but then Morgana seemed giddier and wasn't in her room sometimes," Gwen blathered on.

"What do you mean not in her room?" Arthur asked.

She finally looked at him, "She _said_ she was getting potions from Gaius for her nightmares. I was working late on night and was bringing her a snack and some light wine when I saw Merlin leave her room."

Arthur looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I went in with the snack and Morgana said Merlin had delivered her a potion for her nightmares," she finished lamely.

"That's it? He was probably delivering it for Gaius," Arthur unclenched his hands.

Guinevere looked at him as if he were the daftest man on the planet.

"Just because she said he was delivering potions doesn't mean he was," she suggested.

"That's ridiculous," Arthur snorted.

"Just how many times have they disappeared at the same time, or dragged each other behind a pillar?" she raised a brow.

"What?" Arthur gaped.

"Did you really pay so little attention to anyone but yourself?" Gwen was frustrated, now, "I'm not saying it was more than a crush, but for all we know it could've been. Which is why Morgana hurting Merlin and kidnapping him was probably one of the most horrible things that could happen to him," she stood and stalked towards the door, leaving.

Arthur was left at his desk, reeling from shock. Was he really that blind?

* * *

He was curled up next to Morgana, trying to sleep.

She had returned a few minutes after his stupidity had ceased and helped him up the stairs. She immediately bypassed his old room and led him straight to her chambers. She prattled on about staying close in case his wounds became infected or some such thing. He nodded dumbly and crawled onto the bed.

Morgana had fallen asleep next to him, Aithusa on the thick carpet, a fire roaring in the small fireplace. It was too hot in the room, and he thought that without a shirt on. Morgana had absentmindedly forgotten to get him a new one. She had been tossing and turning all night, mumbling nonsense in her sleep.

At some point in the night she had taken his hand and held it in a tight grip. She usually did that to Aithusa, but Aithusa refused to sleep in the bed. She had gotten larger, and seemed to prefer the carpet.

Morgana whimpered and she scrunched up her face. Merlin worried she was having a nightmare.

"Morgana," Merlin said quietly, fingertips barely touching her shoulder.

He moved her hair away from her face and she felt warm to the touch. Maybe she had a fever.

Her eyes snapped open and she immediately backed away from him, covering herself with her blanket. She was likely trying to cover up the extent of her scars. She looked at him imploringly, trying to remember why he was in her bed. Her cheeks were flushed and Merlin was sure she was feverish.

"I couldn't sleep, and you were talking," Merlin said softly, trying not to frighten her.

Morgana nodded, blinking. She looked afraid, huddled up against the wall. She was cowering away from him, the fear in her eyes apparent.

"Sorry to keep you up," she said emotionlessly.

"You have a fever, I think," Merlin said.

"I'm fine," Morgana repeated his words from yesterday.

"No, you're not," Merlin frowned, "shall I fetch water for a bath?"

"No," she said in a low voice. She sat up on her knees, facing him.

She looked at him, as if trying to figure something out. Slowly and hesitantly, she ran her thumb over his cheeks and down to his neck and exposed collarbones.

"My lady?" Merlin said, frozen in his place.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" she asked, all the while tracing her hands along the curve of his neck. She sounded kind, almost.

"Much better, my lady," he answered tersely.

"Morgana," she corrected.

"I'll go, then," he gulped.

"No," she said softly, dragging a hand to his breeches while her other hand cupped behind his head.

"My lady, this isn't proper," Merlin's voice caught in his throat. What the hell was she thinking?

Morgana snorted, "I'm a witch hell-bent on destroying my brother. Do you think I care for what's proper?"

Merlin mumbled something about despoiling her and she smirked once more.

"Did I dream that you kissed me?" Morgana asked.

"On the cheek. As a thank you," Merlin said quickly.

"It's better than what you'll do to me," she turned away from him and stared at the wall, remembering her dream.

"What was it?" he asked.

She tilted her head and looked at him with hurt green eyes, "You killed me."

All the air left Merlin's lungs.

"No," he whispered.

"I saw it, Merlin. You stabbed me, leaving me for dead," her lips quirked into a snarl.

"No, I would never," he said quietly.

"You betrayed me to save Arthur," her voice was deadly quiet.

"Arthur is a prat and a bully. I wouldn't-" Merlin's eyes were wide.

"Get out," she commanded. So her sweet caresses had been meaningless? A trick to make him mad? Did she _want_ him to kill her?

"I will never hurt you. Not again," he reached for her hand. She flinched away.

"Prove it," she challenged.

He took her hand and kissed it, much as he had the night before. Without warning she pressed her mouth onto Merlin's. Her lips were soft and sweet and Merlin couldn't not wrap his arms around her and kiss back. He'd dreamt of this moment when he was still more of a boy than a man. It was that damned red dress she wore to the first feast he'd gone to in Camelot. That had done him in. Then he saw how sweet and passionate she was and he fell in love with more and more until one day she was a stranger.

His tongue entered her mouth and she groaned, pressing herself against him. He winced when she brushed up against his ribs and she reeled back.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said, biting her lip. She wasn't just talking about the injuries.

"It's fine," Merlin smiled at her reassuringly. It was a pained smile. How could he go on to kill her when she was only trying to make a place for magic in the kingdom?

She looked lost for a moment, "I should get dressed."

"I'll go, then," he slipped off of the bed.

"Stop," she used her 'authoritative' voice, "You'll help me."

Merlin's jaw went slack and Morgana smirked. She reached for his hand and pulled him on top of her. Aithusa looked up at them and then lay back down, closing her eyes before drifting off to sleep. Morgana lifted her head to kiss him once more, and Merlin smiled.

"How's this helping you get dressed?" Merlin asked cheekily. It's not exactly what he expected. After all, his job usually entailed throwing clothes at Arthur and mocking him when he had to help the king get ready for the day.

"Shut up and kiss me," she murmured, wrapping an arm around his neck.

"As you wish, my lady," Merlin kissed her.

She had no affections for Merlin; he was merely proving his loyalty. That's all it was and all it would ever be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much for the kind reviews and for reading/following/favoriting. I really appreciate it. This is obviously an AU so things will be different from the show. Please review.  
**

* * *

Morgana's fingers curled into Merlin's hair. His head rested on her chest, and he was fast asleep. He looked so peaceful, she didn't want to wake him. Aithusa still slumbered on the carpet, next to the dying fire. Embers were scattered in the fireplace, and smoke rose from the burnt wood.

Merlin's arm was splayed over her waist, rendering her unable to move from underneath him. She pursed her lips and absentmindedly played with his hair. It was soft and dark and curled wildly when she ran her fingers through it. It was much like her own hair, and she stopped herself right there. That's where their similarities ended. It didn't matter that they both had magic, would both be persecuted for who they were, and that they had been so alone, hiding a secret.

Anger flared within her. He could've talked to her. She went to him, terrified of who she was, and he sent her away. She glared at him as her fingers still tugged gently on his hair. Her glare softened, and she shook her head. It was all Uther's fault. She was the king's ward. He didn't know she wouldn't turn her in. But she had been nicer then, surely. He could've trusted her as she trusted him when she took that poison thinking him kind for giving her the bit of water they had. Her hand stilled and she looked at him intently. She could make out the stubble beginning to grow on his cheeks, even in the dark. She reached her hand out to brush her fingers over his cheek, but stopped herself.

She needed to stop thinking of Merlin's hair, his cheekbones, his lips, and the things he could do with those lips, and instead focus on getting him back to Camelot without arousing suspicion.

Arthur would welcome Merlin back, surely. But the 'stumbled through the woods until he found his way home' bit might be getting old.

She made a face. Merlin murmured something in his sleep, lips parting, and her mouth attempted a smile. She caught herself before she could. She felt nothing for him. He was going to help her take what belonged to her, and that was it. She smirked. First she took Arthur's closest confidant and manservant (in more ways than one), now she would take his throne.

"Morning," he said sleepily, lifting his head up.

"Morning," she said quietly.

He moved his head to the pillow, and she bit her lip. He didn't know she had been playing with his hair, surely?

"I think you should go to Camelot. Today," Morgana said in an emotionless voice.

Merlin looked up at her with a crinkled brow, "Have I upset you, my lady?"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm quite pleased with you, actually."

She mentally cursed herself for letting affection tinge her voice. Merlin smiled a bit and she looked away. She couldn't grow too attached. Merlin was here with her now, and served his purpose well enough as he was close to Arthur and played the fool well, but she didn't know what would happen to him in the end once she got her throne. He could get hurt, or worse, die. She'd be alone once more and the thought wasn't all too comforting. Morgana would not admit she was scared, merely concerned. She could deal with alone. She was alone after Morgause, and Aggravaine, and Mordred. She was used to it.

"My lady?" Merlin's thumb reached under the blankets and ghosted across her hip. Morgana took a breath and rolled over to face him.

She brought her lips to his and both his hands gripped her hips. She didn't have to be alone at the very moment, though, did she? Companionship wasn't a horrible thing.

* * *

Morgana watched as Merlin put his clothing on. She had mended his shirt and he now looked like Arthur's faithful servant. The very thought of Merlin following his orders left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"There's food on the table downstairs," she told him.

"You're not going to eat?" he asked in concern.

"No," she shook her head.

"Well, how do I look?" he asked, spinning slowly.

She nodded. He looked like he'd had a tough time, and he be even worse for the wear on his journey.

"Well, goodbye, my lady," Merlin bowed a bit before heading to the door.

"Merlin," Morgana said, stopping him in his tracks, "Don't let me down."

"Never, Morgana," Merlin smiled a bit and winked. With that, he was gone once more.

She remained seated on the bed and waited until she heard the front door slam, and Merlin's footsteps get too far away for her to hear. How pathetic was it that she knew his footsteps better than her own? She lay back and blinked. High Priestesses didn't cry.

* * *

When Merlin stumbled into the courtyard within Camelot's walls, the first person to find him was Gwaine.

"Merlin!" Gwaine shouted, rushing over.

"Gwaine," Merlin smiled tiredly.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked gruffly, obviously worried.

"Not quite sure. I was abandoned, you see," Merlin bit back. Oh, this was new. This sort of response was more acerbic than he'd have liked.

Gwaine looked ashamed, "I told Arthur not to leave you."

"I know," Merlin said.

Gwaine wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulder and led him to the castle. Merlin leaned into his friend, glad to have someone he could trust in Camelot.

* * *

Arthur and Merlin stared each other down. They were in his chambers, not the throne room or at the Round Table. This was just between them.

"I'm glad you're alright, Merlin," Arthur said after minutes of silence.

"Really?" Merlin raised a brow, "Sure could've fooled me."

"I am sorry that we left you," Arthur said.

"Yeah, why did you?" Merlin asked with a slight quirk of his brow.

"I…it was a difficult thing to do. There were too many of them, and it was dangerous to try and bring you here," Arthur tried to explain.

Merlin nodded absentmindedly, "I understand. You have to put the knights first. I'm just a servant."

Arthur's mouth formed a thin line. Did Merlin really just see himself as a servant?

"I am sorry," the king didn't know what else to say.

* * *

Guinevere went to the stables to find Merlin brushing Arthur's horse and talking to it. He moved slower than usual, and he was listless. He looked pale and withdrawn. There were bags under his eyes and he looked like he'd gotten no sleep, or like he'd been crying.

"Merlin," Gwen greeted him.

"My lady," Merlin nodded. The words felt odd on his tongue when he wasn't addressing Morgana.

"How are you, Merlin?" she asked kindly.

"Fine," Merlin continued to brush the horse.

"Have you been sleeping well, eating properly?" Gwen asked, biting her lip.

"I'm fine, my lady. I just have nightmares sometimes," he said as if it wasn't a big deal.

Gwen's eyes widened and she looked genuinely concerned, "What did Morgana do to you?"

Merlin stopped brushing the horse and looked at the ground, blues eyes concentrating on the hay.

"She made me feel," he said morosely, then added, "what has pained me most over and over again."

He looked up at Gwen to gauge her reaction. She looked horrified that Morgana could do something like that. Merlin wasn't lying when he said Morgana made him feel. She made him feel a lot of things: guilty, angry, sad, useless, helpful, smart, stupid, happy, incredibly stupidly happy, and protective.

"I'll talk to Arthur about letting you have a few days off. Perhaps Gaius could fix you something for your nightmares," Guinevere suggested.

The unsaid words hung in the air: _have him drug you like Morgana was drugged to prevent her visions, when all it did was hurt her instead._

"Thank you, my lady," Merlin tried to smile.

* * *

Morgana looked into the water intently as she dropped pebbles into the cauldron. A ripple, a sign, anything. She needed to know. A raven pecked at the window and she forgot all about scrying. Finally. She rushed to it and unrolled the parchment.

_Arthur plans of an alliance with Sarrum, though Gaius warned him of his cruelty to all, especially those with magic. Will be in Camelot within the fortnight. Shall I poison them both?_

Morgana clutched the parchment tightly in her fist. Sarrum and Arthur dead in one fell swoop, perhaps in a battle. Merlin didn't know it was Sarrum who had captured her and Aithusa. She grinned manically and took a quill from the table next to the window.

_Meet me in a week's time._

"He's going to pay for what he did to us," Morgana whispered to herself, and glanced at Aithusa who flew around outside.

* * *

Arthur knocked on Gaius's door, and Gaius opened it.

"Yes?" Gaius asked.

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur asked, checking behind the door, "if he's in the tavern again…"

"Queen Guinevere gave him leave of his duties," Gaius said, "he's gone for a walk to clear his head."

"Oh," Arthur frowned, "why didn't he ask me?"

"He didn't want to disturb your preparations for Sarrum's welcome, sire," Gaius said.

"Fine," Arthur said and bid the old man farewell.

* * *

Merlin reached a clearing in the middle of the woods, exactly where the raven told him to go. Morgana pushed herself off of the tree she had been leaning against and walked over to Merlin.

"My lady," Merlin greeted, bowing his head slightly.

"Shut up," she raised her hands to rest on the sides of his face and kissed him roughly.

It'd been near two weeks since she'd seen him last. Merlin's arms wrapped around her waist and they staggered back towards the tree. Merlin pushed her against it and began to kiss her neck while her fingers tugged his hair.

"I have the poison," Morgana informed, "for Sarrum. It'll look like both tried to poison the other," she took a deep and tried to keep from panting. Merlin's mouth was warm and his hands were rough and calloused with years of hard work as they pulled at the bodice of her dress. Her hands used to be soft, but were rougher now, too.

Merlin made a noise as if he understood continued to kiss her neck. Morgana bit her lip and finally let out a small gasp.

"Arthur's preparing for Sarrum's arrival with a feast," Merlin said in a low voice.

Morgana nodded and tried to untie that blasted neckerchief of his.

"Enough about Arthur now," she murmured, tossing the scarf to the ground. She kissed Merlin again, dragging her lips to his jaw and neck.

She'd deal with her dear brother later. She had more pressing matters to tend to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews! I can't believe I passed the 100 mark. I really appreciate feedback. The dialogue in the first scene is from The Hollow Queen episode.  
**

* * *

Merlin held the pitcher of wine and poured it accordingly when Arthur waved him over. Sarrum had arrived, and Merlin didn't like the look of him at all. Even Guinevere seemed to be uneasy around him.

"We have many things in common. And also an enemy," Arthur leaned in to speak to his guest.

"Sorcery," Sarrum said.

Arthur nodded and Gwen tried to look like she wasn't listening to the conversation.

"There is a rumour that you held Morgana prisoner," Arthur said.

Merlin nearly dropped the pitcher. Better yet, he should smash it over Sarrum's bald head. Gwen tilted her head and saw Merlin clench his jaw.

"Is it true?" Arthur asked.

"She's nothing to be feared," Sarrum said easily, "I kept her, like an animal."

He drank from his goblet. Merlin felt like slipping in the poison then and there instead of at the farewell feast like Morgana told him to.

"How did you capture her? She's a sorcerer, a High Priestess," Arthur said.

_No, really_? Merlin scowled.

"I found her weakness. Everyone has one," Sarrum said, "even a High Priestess. A young dragon."

Merlin let out a small gasp, but it went unnoticed to all but Gwen. Sarrum took a drink.

"Her love for that creature caused her to suffer more than she ever thought imaginable," Sarrum continued.

Gwen blinked rapidly and held a hand to her mouth. She felt sick. Merlin watched her intently, wondering if she was sympathising with the woman who wanted her throne.

"Not more than she deserved. I knew she wouldn't dare use magic against me while her beloved creature was at risk of harm. Such a shame. All that power, all that beauty, abandoned and forgotten in a living grave."

Gwen looked away from Arthur, and Merlin stared at the floor intently. His eyes burned and his fingers itched.

"You're a harsh judge, Lord Sarrum," Arthur said.

Merlin tried not to glare. That man had tortured Arthur's sister, his own flesh and blood, and that's all he could say?

"When it comes to sorcery, we must be merciless. I was not merciless enough. Morgana escaped. A lapse on my part. I shall not be so foolish again," Sarrum vowed, "Not that her time with me was entirely wasted."

He gave a slimy smirk, and Merlin clenched his fists around the pitcher even tighter. A bit more pressure, and it would crack.

"As the dragon grew, the pit became too small. Gradually the creature was crippled and twisted. At night you could hear its cries. They were even more heartbreaking than Morgana," he finished.

By this point, even Arthur looked ill. Merlin bit his tongue to keep from yelling. Aithusa. Poor Aithusa. Poor Morgana. Why hadn't she told him what Sarrum had done?

Gwen stood and faced them.

"I hope Lord Sarrum will forgive me for retiring for the night," Guinevere said pleasantly.

Sarrum waved her off, and Arthur took a long drink. Merlin watched as Gwen left, discreetly wiping a stray tear off of her face.

It struck Merlin then that Gwen and Morgana had been friends since they were young girls and grew up together. Merlin had only met Morgana ten years ago. Of course Gwen would find herself feeling for her old friend.

Merlin turned his attention back to Arthur and Sarrum and wondered what would happen if he strangled him then and there.

* * *

"You cannot possibly think to join forces with him," Guinevere pursed her lips later that night.

Arthur was getting ready to sleep, and Guinevere was lecturing him.

"We have a common ally," Arthur said weakly.

"He chained Morgana to a pit for two years and who knows what else," a shiver ran down her spine as she realised what Sarrum had meant by 'time not entirely wasted'.

"His tactics are cruel, yes, but—"

"But nothing, Arthur. You'd be proving to be just as horrible as he is if you find peace with him."

"We must defend Camelot from magic," Arthur said quietly.

"Morgana is the only one with magic who seeks to destroy us. After what she's been through, I can't really blame her," Gwen said.

Arthur's jaw dropped. First Merlin was acting odd, now Guinevere?

"Arthur, please. Joining forces with Sarrum will make you no better than Uther," Gwen said gently, "you're a better man than your father."

_You're a better man than your father, always were. _Morgana's words rang in Arthur's ears and his shoulders hunched. He hid his face behind his hands, and Gwen sank onto the bed next to him, rubbing his arm comfortingly.

* * *

The door to the abandoned manor swung open, and Morgana raised a brow.

"Ever hear of knocking?" she asked drily. She'd heard him coming practically a mile away. He should really start taking more careful steps.

"I…Sarrum…why…" Merlin stammered, not sure what exactly possessed him to take off straight after the feast. He wondered why she wasn't asleep yet, as the feast had ended a few hours ago and it was near two in the morning.

Morgana's face darkened immediately and she looked away. Merlin walked up to her and brushed a stray curl away from her face, his fingers tentative. She glanced at him and frowned. He was worried for nothing. It was over.

"You didn't need to know," Morgana said simply, as if it was just a simple bump on the head she'd suffered. She could take care of herself. She was a grown woman, the most powerful woman in the realm to boot.

Merlin didn't say anything. He wrapped his arms around Morgana and pulled her into a hug. She kept her arms at her sides for a few moments before throwing her arms around him and pressing her head onto his chest.

"Morgana," his voice croaked, "I swear I will kill him in the most painful way possible."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and even a little afraid.

"He kept me locked up for two years," her voice sounded far away. She wasn't even there. "I thought maybe he'd let me go when he came to taunt me, but," she shook her head.

She didn't need to say anything more. Merlin pulled a bit away and bent his knees to be at eye-level with her.

"I will destroy him," he vowed.

Morgana nodded and gave a broken smile. She hugged him tighter and closed her eyes. Merlin pulled away and led her to the stairs.

"I can sleep here," she shook her head, "I'm fine," she tried to move back to the sitting area.

Merlin rolled his eyes good-naturedly and swept her into his arms. She narrowed her eyes at him and didn't protest as he climbed the stairs and walked into her chambers. He deposited her on her bed and stepped back.

"Goodnight, my lady," he inclined his head.

Morgana looked at him and took a breath, "Merlin. Stay with me?"

Merlin blinked slowly. Had she just asked him to stay? Commands were usually more her forte. He moved towards the bed and sat down. Morgana closed her eyes and Merlin smiled softly. He altered his position and her head rested on his chest, his arm around her. She wrinkled her nose at his smell and he chuckled as quietly as possible.

"Goodnight, Merlin," she whispered.

"Goodnight," he leaned in to kiss the top of her head, then stopped himself.

He held her, listening to her breathing start to become slower and steadier. His fingers curled in her hair and he waited for her to fall asleep.

"Morgana?" he murmured.

She didn't reply. He bit his lip and kissed her on the forehead, "I swear I will protect you, no matter the cost. I…" he stopped himself once more and shook his head. It was too much. Too much.

* * *

Merlin had barely slept. Morgana had somehow moved during the night and decided he was a better pillow than an actual pillow. Her arms were wrapped around him, limbs loose and relaxed. It seemed she'd slept better than she had. Perhaps the knowledge that her tormentor would soon die comforted her.

The thought of Sarrum made his eyes glaze over. Forget the poison. He'd kill him in the most sick, twisted way he knew how. How would he like to be chained to a pit? He tightened his hold around Morgana and pressed his chin to the top of her head. No. He wasn't going to wait. Sarrum would die and then they'd take care of Arthur.

He tried to slip out from underneath Morgana, but she merely held on tighter. He was torn between wanting to hold on and going back to Camelot to slit Sarrum's throat.

Merlin sighed and kissed the top of her head. She mumbled something and he feared she was having a nightmare or worse, a vision. Her brows furrowed and she clutched at Merlin's shirt tightly.

"Morgana?" he whispered. Should he wake her up?

"Merlin, please," she murmured, "please."

Merlin turned pale. He wasn't killing her again, was he? He rubbed her back gently.

"Shh, it's just a dream," he whispered, trying to calm her.

Morgana opened her eyes slowly. She looked confused (surprised?) to see Merlin there.

"Morgana?" Merlin prompted.

She blinked and loosened her grip on his shirt, though she didn't pull away.

"You're still here," she whispered, more to herself than to him, "still here."

Merlin was instantly worried. She sounded crazed and delirious.

"Of course I'm still here," Merlin said, "where else would I be, my lady?"

She looked at him sharply, "I…you returned to Arthur. And Mordred exposed your secret," she said slowly.

Merlin's chest constricted, "No. He wouldn't."

"That's not the worst part," her nostrils flared and she looked away from Merlin.

"What?" his voice sounded tired.

"Nothing changes, Merlin. All of this work, pain, for nothing," she shook her head and disentangled her limbs from Merlin. She sat up and stared at the empty room. It was in shambles, really. She'd practically been a princess once, and now she lived in an abandoned, ramshackle manor.

Merlin felt cold instantly and he reached his hand out to touch her. He _needed_ to touch her. He was still here. He wouldn't leave her. Not now, not ever.

"Do you know what it's like seeing the only person you have left be thrown in the dungeons to be burned?" Morgana asked quietly.

She was angry. At Arthur, at Gwen, at Mordred. She treated Mordred like a son she never had, and this is how he repaid her? First by stabbing her and then by condemning her…her what, exactly, to a slow and painful death? Puppet was too cruel. Assistant? Lackey? Morgana pursed her lips. _Friend_, but not quite.

Merlin's mind was racing. After all he'd done, Arthur would still feed him to the flames? For having magic? He couldn't control that, he was born with it.

Morgana must have sensed Merlin's distress, and she placed a hand on his arm and scooted closer to him.

"Be careful," she said after minutes of silence.

Merlin turned to face her and brushed her cheek with his thumb. Morgana tilted her head and caught it in her mouth, then kissed his hand. He'd never started it before, except that one time she stopped him. She usually commanded him and he'd obey. This was different. She held his hand and he leaned in to kiss her. Morgana pressed her hand to his chest and pulled away.

"It's almost morning. You're supposed to be in Camelot," she said quietly.

Merlin nodded and pressed his forehead against hers. With a quick kiss he pulled away and headed towards the door. He closed it behind him and she stared at nothing.

"Don't die," she said, "don't die."


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews! I've essentially finished writing it all out, so expect an update a day.  
**

* * *

His job was done. A silver, glistening dagger had glided across Sarrum's throat, letting the blood spill from his neck. Before Merlin killed him, he made sure he felt the most excruciating pain known to man.

He had gasped, clutching his neck, then his stomach, then his aching back. It felt like he was burning on the inside, being stabbed with molten hot swords.

"You have magic," he wheezed at who he thought was a bumbling servant.

"I was born with it," he spat at him.

"If this is the trash in Camelot," he squirmed, trying to sound unaffected.

"The only trash I see is you," Merlin snarled, "is this the sort of pain you inflicted on an Morgana and innocent dragon?"

There was pure hatred in Merlin's usually kind blue eyes. They turned a darker shade of blue like the sea during a storm and he used all the power he had to hurt Sarrum in the worst possible way.

"She deserved it," Sarrum coughed, voice breaking.

"You cannot hurt a High Priestess," Merlin smirked, "without paying the price."

Merlin clenched his hand into a fist, eyes glowing gold. Sarrum's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets from the pain.

"Do you want mercy?" Merlin asked, voice low.

"Y-yes," he mumbled, "please."

Merlin's mouth twisted into a smirk, "Did Morgana ask for mercy, for freedom?"

Merlin brought the dagger to Sarrum's throat, "You don't deserve mercy."

Sarrum tried to scream, but Merlin silenced him with a slice to the neck.

Now Sarrum lay dead in his bed, waiting to be found in the morning.

Merlin had cleaned the dagger and hid it under a floorboard in his room. He was supposed to wait for the tourney and farewell feast, but every time he saw the man, if he could be considered that, his anger flared within him and grew until even Arthur noticed he'd not spoken a word for days.

If he were to talk, he'd reveal his plans, or words of hatred would spew from his mouth. It was a risk not worth taking.

* * *

Arthur sat on the throne, Guinevere next to him. He couldn't believe Albin had murdered Sarrum, yet the man himself confessed it. Merlin had made sure Albin would confess. Hanging was a kinder fate than he would've given Sarrum's pet.

"By the laws of Camelot, I sentence you to death. You shall be executed first thing in the morning," Arthur announced the sentence.

Albin hung his head and was dragged away by the guards.

Merlin's gaze followed him discreetly and he tried not to smile. Sarrum had been discovered early that morning by one of the maids, who ran screaming from his chambers. Of course, Albin admitted to his heinous crime. A bloodied dagger was found in his own chambers mere yards away.

Gaius shook his head, as if to tell Arthur that he should've listened to him. Where Sarrum went, trouble always followed.

Gwen's gaze was cold as Albin was led out, and a small little smile crossed her lips before she was once more the epitome of passivity.

Merlin's brow quirked of its own accord. Could the Queen have wanted Sarrum dead as well?

* * *

Arthur hung his head. An alliance with Sarrum, hah. He'd been so stupid, so blind. No good could have come of it. He'd known that, deep down, but he let it happen anyway. Sarrum and his men weren't to be trusted. Hell, who could Arthur trust?

He stood and walked over to the window. He opened it to let in the night breeze. He needed to clear his head and focus. Camelot needed a strong king, a dependable one. Not one who made deals with lords who were killed by their own men.

* * *

Merlin scowled as Gaius examined Sarrum's corpse.

"Dead is dead, isn't it?" Merlin asked.

Gaius raised a brow, "It's clear he suffered from the attack on his throat, but there's bruising on his limbs."

"What does that mean?" Merlin asked, raising his shoulders as if to defend himself.

"Sorcery," Gaius said, "is the only thing that could cause such internal harm. His bones and muscles were crushed from the inside, and the bruises showed up on his skin, see?"

He pointed, and Merlin made a face of disgust.

"Albin's a sorcerer as well as a murderer?" he asked.

"Not Albin," Gaius said, levelling a look at Merlin.

"Mordred," Merlin suggested in a quiet voice without even flinching.

"I'm afraid so," Gaius nodded.

It would've made sense for Mordred to do it, wouldn't it? He helped Morgana for who knows how long. They had a bond. Merlin snarled at the very thought.

"We have no proof," Merlin said. He should at least keep up pretences that he was protecting the traitor, right?

_Hypocrite_ something in his mind shouted at him. He tried to push that thought away.

"Keep an eye on him, Merlin," Gaius said warily.

"Of course," Merlin nodded.

* * *

Sarrum was dead. Albin was dead. Morgana drained the wine from her glass. She was practically giddy with joy.

She sat at the head of the table, Merlin to her right. She was actually eating something besides nibbling on fruit, and Merlin smiled to himself. She hadn't been this happy since…when was the last time she was like this? Surely before he'd even poisoned her. Her brief stint as Queen didn't even seem to make her as happy as Sarrum's death did.

"Merlin, drink," she gestured to his untouched glass.

He picked up the wineglass and took a sip. Morgana seemed pleased and continued to drink. Merlin worried she'd get too far into her cups and suggested she rest.

"I can't now, Merlin," she grinned, the alcohol clearly taking its toll on her.

"Really, Morgana," Merlin licked his lips.

Her usually pale cheeks were flushed and her hair looked like it had actually been brushed. She lifted her glass towards Merlin and drank some more.

"Will you be staying the night?" she asked.

Had her eyes always had that mischievous glint?

"I should get back before anyone notices I'm gone," Merlin bit his lip.

Morgana tilted her head to the side, "Do you think they care, Merlin?"

He remained quiet and shook his head. Of course they didn't care. Morgana smirked in triumph and poured more wine into her glass.

"Thank you, Merlin," Morgana said after minutes of silence.

"For what?" Merlin asked.

She smiled a bit, then shook her head, "For Sarrum. For being here."

Merlin took her hand that rested on the table.

"I will always be here," Merlin said, kissing her hand.

_Don't make promises you can't keep_, she wanted to say. Her smile faltered and she nodded.

* * *

Arthur looked out the window, not quite believing his eyes. Just where was Merlin sneaking off to at this time of night? He narrowed his eyes, watching as Merlin completely bypassed the guards, and Arthur frowned. What bloody good were the guards if they couldn't even spot Merlin from leaving?

Arthur headed towards the door, curious as to where, exactly, his manservant was going.

* * *

"Took you long enough," Morgana drawled, leaning against the tree.

"I had chores," Merlin said with a small shrug.

Morgana pushed herself off of the tree and took small steps towards Merlin. Merlin, for his part, walked a whole lot quicker. When Morgana reached him, she clutched his worn brown jacket in her fists.

"When I'm Queen, you won't have chores ever again," she leaned into his ear and brushed her lips against it, "you're so much more than a servant."

"Morgana, I need to know when to—" Merlin tried to ask her when she should slip Arthur the poison. If it was too soon after Sarrum's untimely death, if it wouldn't arouse suspicion.

His question was cut off by Morgana's mouth working on his neck.

"Morgana," he grunted, pulling away, "I—"

"Shut up," Morgana grumbled, trying to kiss him. She thought the spell was supposed to make him bend to her will.

Merlin's eyes darkened and he lowered his hands to her hips before lifting her off her feet, pushing her back to the tree. She grunted at the contact with the rough bark and smirked.

"Is this what you wanted, Morgana?" he kissed her.

Morgana pulled away, eyes wide.

_Is this what you wanted, Morgana? _The old man's words rang in her ears. It couldn't be, could it? No. Merlin was hers, not Arthur's. He wouldn't keep anything from her, not anymore. He was _hers_.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked quietly.

"Fine," she blinked, then brought him into a kiss, "I'm fine."

* * *

Guinevere walked into her chambers to find Arthur nursing an entire pitcher of wine, the table overturned, and papers ripped.

"Arthur," she balked at the sight, "what's happened?"

"We have a traitor in our midst," Arthur said quietly, "Merlin."

"How much have you had?" Gwen asked, "Merlin's the most loyal person I've ever met."

"Loyal to Morgana, maybe. How long d'you think he's been betraying me? Us?"

"There must be some sort of misunderstanding," Gwen said, trying to reason it out.

"Probably wasn't even actually kidnapped," he said bitterly.

"Or," Gwen's eyes widened, "he was kidnapped and Morgana's enchanted him."

Arthur blinked. Why didn't he think of that? It made more sense than Merlin being a traitor, right? He needed to talk to Gaius. He needed Merlin back.

* * *

**So, the Pendragons will face off soon. Things are about to get real(er). Please review.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for the reviews! We've got two chapters left to go!  
**

* * *

Merlin was under a spell, under the power of Tiene Daga, or whatever. Arthur was sceptical of using magic to get his friend back, but he was willing to try. He had forgotten Gaius had practised magic before the Purge, but was relieved to know the old man could help.

There was something about travelling to the Cauldron of Arianrhod and summoning the Triple Goddess, and Arthur was incredibly wary. He'd almost died talking to the Dochraid, since he was no friend of the Old Religion or Morgana. Arthur found her to be quite rude, and probably would be dead had it not been for Gaius's mediation. How were they supposed to get Merlin there? He was supposed to enter the water willingly. It's not like he could push her in.

Gwen insisted on going with them, but Arthur said it was too dangerous, and took Gaius along instead. Merlin had been knocked out with the belladonna plant, and would hopefully awake in time to go into the water.

What Arthur hadn't counted on was Morgana turning up with her dragon.

"Hello, brother dear," she smirked, "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

Gaius looked between the Pendragons, and the still sleeping Merlin.

"Merlin's not a thing, nor one for you to possess," Arthur frowned.

"That's where you're wrong," Morgana said, almost sounding pleasant, "he's _mine_."

Arthur didn't know what kind of sick, twisted game Morgana was playing. People weren't possessions, and Merlin was most certainly not hers. Gaius was next to Merlin, holding the unconscious manservant.

"You hate Merlin, though," Arthur said in confusion.

Morgana's face darkened, "The only man I hate is you. Don't dare presume you know how I feel."

Arthur felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Should he expect anything less from her? They were family, and yet…

"Gaius, step away," Morgana said, voice eerily calm, "you don't know what you're doing."

"You've enchanted him! Put him under a spell!" Arthur shouted.

"No," Morgana shook her head, lips quirking into a smile, "I did. But he broke out of it long ago."

"Liar," Arthur spat.

"You see only what you want to see, Arthur. Just like Uther," she said, bitter, "now bring Merlin to me."

Merlin stirred from his spot next to Gaius, and looked between Arthur and Morgana in confusion. Arthur moved to block him from Morgana's view, and to protect him from whatever Morgana had planned.

"Morgana?" Merlin tried to stand. His legs were wobbly, and he nearly fell over.

"Merlin," Morgana sounded relieved that he was awake. She tried to move closer to him, but Arthur blocked her path, "Out of my way."

"Over my dead body," Arthur said in a low voice.

"Arthur, move," Merlin said, sounding tired.

Morgana smiled triumphantly, and Arthur stepped aside in confusion. Merlin wobbled over to Morgana, and she wrapped an arm around him to steady him.

"I don't understand," Arthur said.

Merlin snorted.

"I'm not enchanted, Arthur," Merlin said.

"Then prove it. Go on," Arthur gestured to the rushing water next to them.

"No," Morgana grabbed Merlin's arm in worry, "he doesn't need to prove anything to you."

"It's fine, Morgana," he gave her a little smile and edged towards the lake.

Morgana blinked as Merlin waded into the water, and she couldn't breathe. Arthur looked similarly tense, and his gaze was focused on Merlin, though his hand remained on the hilt of his sword. They had an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't attack each other, not yet.

Without warning, Merlin disappeared fully under the water. A second. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. He was taking too long. Merlin could swim, right? Arthur blinked, waiting, and Morgana glanced at Arthur and Gaius nervously.

She began to head towards the water, and was knee deep when Arthur finally said something.

"What the hell are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"Saving his life," Morgana snapped, disappearing into the water like Merlin had.

She tried to keep her eyes open, and the weight of her dress slowed her down. She saw him, his eyes closed. She swam over to him and grabbed his arm, bringing him to the surface. Stupid, stupid man. He had nothing to prove to Arthur.

Arthur finally waded into the water and roughly took Merlin from her, and carried him onto the shore.

"Thanks," Morgana rolled her eyes.

Arthur didn't reply, and set Merlin on the sand. He gently slapped his cheek and Morgana glared.

"Merlin, c'mon," Arthur urged.

Gaius scuttled over and pressed on his chest, and Merlin lifted his head, water spewing from his mouth. He was crowded by Arthur and Gaius. He looked past them at Morgana. Her sopping wet dress clung to her and her hair was matted against her face. She looked like she was shivering from the cold and the icy water.

"She's cold," was the first thing Merlin said. He caught himself before he could say anything else.

Morgana smiled in relief at him, since he was okay, and Arthur turned to face her in confusion.

"And what the hell just happened?" Merlin asked Arthur.

Arthur stammered, and Morgana crossed her arms over her chest.

"You were enchanted by Morgana, Merlin. She's been using you," Arthur answered.

Merlin sat up and looked between the two Pendragons.

"Using me? Arthur, what did I do?" Merlin asked with wide eyes.

Morgana looked like she'd just been stabbed in the back once again. Her worst fears were coming true.

Arthur smiled crookedly at Merlin, "Your plot's been foiled, Morgana. Merlin would _never _willingly help you in your mad fight for Camelot."

Morgana's eyes were wide, "Merlin, please. You were enchanted before. You broke out of it, I know you did."

It was the hit to the head he'd suffered the day Arthur had abandoned him. Apparently a swift rock to the temple was enough to shake him of an enchantment, but neither of them knew that then.

He had kissed her first. That's when she knew. He went to her of his own free will, time and time again. She couldn't force that sort affection from him, unless the spell was stronger than she'd known.

Merlin stood and walked over to Morgana, a lost look in his eyes.

"You used me," he said weakly, "you brainwashed me? _Again_?"

Morgana hated being reprimanded like a child, and Arthur wanted to know what 'again' meant.

"Merlin, you needed to see how Arthur is the enemy. He persecutes those with magic for no reason, he's cruel and unjust like Uther. He caused Freya's death—" Morgana rambled manically.

"Don't you dare mention her name again," Merlin's voice was deathly low, "I don't know what's happened, but I don't like it."

Merlin backed away and Morgana reached her arm out to touch him. He shook his head at her and moved to Arthur. Arthur wondered who Freya was.

Morgana pursed her lips. Merlin had made his choice. She screamed, and her eyes glowed.

"RUN!" Arthur shouted, urging Merlin and Gaius along.

* * *

"I am so sorry," Merlin apologised to Arthur.

He was curled up in a blanket, safe and sound in Camelot.

"It wasn't your fault," Arthur shook his head, "Morgana will stop at nothing to get what she wants."

Merlin frowned, "What exactly have I done, Arthur?"

"Spied on our plans. Thank God you're a crap assassin, huh?" Arthur tried to make light of the situation.

"Right," Merlin nodded.

Arthur stood, "It's good to have you back, Merlin. You should rest."

"Thanks," Merlin blinked, and Arthur left.

Merlin stood and walked to his room. He fell onto his bed and closed his eyes. He couldn't remember the past few weeks (months) at all.

He remembered Morgana capturing him. He remembered a tower and screaming and Frey and Lancelot and Balinor. _Freya_. His heart ached. He remembered everyone leaving him and Morgana being kind, offering him food. Why would she be kind?

Morgana was hell-bent on destroying Arthur and taking the throne. He clenched his eyes shut, deciding sleep would do him a world of good.

It was a terrible idea to try to sleep. All he could see was skin on skin, his mouth pressing onto Morgana's, tangles of dark curls, wide green eyes, and red swollen lips. He saw a dagger slide across a bald man's throat, Aithusa crippled and deformed, Morgana in a pit, chained to a wall. Morgana drinking wine, Morgana holding onto him, Morgana kissing him, Morgana telling him not to disappoint him, Morgana tending to his injuries, Morgana, Morgana, _Morgana_. It was almost as if she was back to her old self when she was with him. Almost.

Merlin's eyes snapped open. What had he done?

* * *

"What's wrong?" Guinevere asked her husband.

It had been two weeks since Merlin was free of the curse. In those two weeks he seemed distant, disjointed from reality.

"I'm worried about Merlin," Arthur admitted, "he's not been himself."

"He's just found out he'd been being used by Morgana. Of course he's not himself," Gwen said rationally, "his free will had been taken from him."

Arthur nodded, trying to process. His manservant, his friend, had been unable to think for himself for months, all because of Morgana's twisted schemes. He felt bile rise to his throat. How could she strip someone of his free will?

Merlin had been going through the motions. Save Arthur, clean armour, water the horses, save Arthur some more.

A village had been raided. Morgana had been searching for Alator of Catha, since he knew who Emrys was. Finna, a kind woman, had warned Merlin, and ended up killing herself to keep Merlin's secret safe.

Morgana had cast a glance at Merlin, eyes wide, before leaving him to die. His throat been dry and he croaked out a 'Morgana', but she was gone.

Kilgarrah had saved him, taking him to safety. He was warned about Mordred, then Kilgarrah disappeared forever.

Merlin was alone again. Then again, so was Morgana.

* * *

Stupid Mordred. Stupid Kara. Stupid, stupid, Arthur. Kara, Mordred's love, had been hanged, and Mordred escaped from his cell in the dungeons, undoubtedly running to Morgana.

_Tell me you wouldn't do the same for the woman you loved._

Merlin's first instinct was to think of Freya, but Morgana crept into his mind. He never loved her. She was using him. It was all a lie. Wasn't it? A war with the Saxons was inevitable, and so was Arthur's demise.

* * *

Morgana stared at Mordred, not quite believing her ears. She looked ahead and blinked. She clenched her hand into a fist and a vase on the table broke.

All of her fear of being persecuted, her fear of being an outcast came rushing back to her. He turned her away and didn't help her. She accepted that when he was just Merlin, but she knew the truth now.

Emrys. Merlin was Emrys. Even under an enchantment he managed to lie to her. She didn't stop to consider that it was impossible for him to lie whilst under the spell, and that was further proof he'd snapped out of it early on. He admitted he had magic so soon, but kept that information to himself. She should've known he'd betray her and leave her like everyone else. She did know, deep down, what was going to happen, but she pushed aside her fears, because of Merlin. What a fool she had been.

She was going to enjoy destroying everything he held dear. (Was she?)

* * *

**Please review.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for reading/reviewing! I really appreciate it. Any recognizable dialogue is from the show.**

* * *

Merlin hit his fist against the stone of the cave. Arthur had gone into battle without him, Gwaine had left him with a sword, and Merlin had no magic. Now he was trapped.

Gwaine had gone with him to the Crystal Cave, not knowing why he was going there, but had gone with him anyway. Merlin wanted to give his friend a hug before he left, but it wasn't the time. Gwaine would be fine. He'd be with Percival, Leon, and Elyan. He'd be fine.

"Take care of yourself, Merlin," Gwaine had shaken his hand.

"You too, old friend," Merlin tried to smile.

Gwaine, funny, charming Gwaine, was near tears. Merlin gulped back a sob and watched him leave.

"Show yourself Morgana!" Merlin shouted. He sounded angry, his voice rougher than he himself had heard it, "or are you afraid?"

She cackled, "I fear no one, Emrys."

Her voice was taunting and light. What he wouldn't give to throttle her. He should've killed her when he had the chance. He'd had so many chances, but something (one) always saved her. He'd kill her and take Aithusa with him.

"Prove it," he challenged.

"I have nothing to prove to you," Morgana appeared from behind a rock, smirk in place.

"Really, now?" Merlin's face twisted into a frown, "then why all this trouble?"

"You've been the reason my plans have always been thwarted, Emrys," she hissed, "and you will pay."

"You put me under a spell and used me," Merlin tried to use as a defence.

Morgana snorted, "You were under a spell, yes, but you broke out of it long before nearly drowning. I saved your life," she said darkly, "and this is my thanks."

Merlin stepped back. He was under a spell, an enchantment, when he was doing Morgana's bidding. He'd kissed her, he'd warmed her bed, he'd killed for her. It was sorcery that did it, not his own will.

Morgana watched his internal panic attack and grinned.

"You see, Emrys, you betrayed Camelot all on your own, and now you're going to be stuck here as your beloved Arthur dies. The waters of the Cauldron merely erased your memory for a short while. You've been yourself since you were hit in the head and Arthur left you for dead."

Merlin snarled at her, fists clenched. He strode up to her, and looked her in the eye. She looked back at him as if he meant nothing to her. Her eyes were a colder shade of green, almost as grey as ice. He moved his mouth to say something, but he couldn't get the words out. His eyes were red from anger and unshed tears, he looked like death, to be quite honest. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, and some of the ice in her eyes melted. She looked like she'd been betrayed. She looked hurt and confused and wore the same look on her face that was so familiar in her time before he poisoned her. That's when Merlin knew she was still in there somewhere. He could still save her. That's what it's all about, wasn't it? Saving Morgana. If he saved her, he could save Camelot and secure Albion's future.

He knew she wasn't lying about him not being enchanted. That was one thing she wouldn't lie about. His own hatred and loathing had been bottled up inside him for so long he needed to release it somehow. But he was wrong, just like Morgana was. She could be good again, he knew it.

"Please, Morgana, we can find another way," he said in a soft voice. They could tell Arthur the truth about him. He could be Court Sorcerer. Morgana would be a princess again. They could live peacefully.

"There is no other way," she shook her head. What a fool he was, to think his pretty blue eyes could convince her to back down. She had too much blood on her hands as it was. What were a few more deaths?

Just as she was about to back away Merlin cupped her cheek with his hand. She froze in her spot.

"You knew I wasn't enchanted, you didn't just figure it out," Merlin said quietly. His thumb brushed across her cheek. Why couldn't she see how much he cared?

"So?" Morgana asked.

"So…" he smiled softly, "you cleaned my wounds, you took care of me, you made love to me."

"No. I _used_ you," she spat, wrenching herself away from him. She was just reusing his words. There was no need for her heart to clench when he looked so hurt.

Merlin shook his head, "That's a lie. I know that now."

Morgana blinked and looked away. Merlin tried to step closer to her again. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and Morgana turned her head away.

"It's over, Merlin," Morgana said quietly, "I have an army to command."

He vaguely wondered where she acquired so many Saxons, anyway.

"And I have a king to save," he smiled against her skin, "but you're not going anywhere."

She turned her head to face him, and before she could tell him to shove off, he kissed her softly. She hit his chest with her fist, trying to get free. Merlin's arms wrapped around her waist and her punches slowed until she ran her hands up and down his chest.

"We can end this now, call off the battle, send the Saxons back," he whispered into her ear.

She tugged his hair, "Never."

"Why the hell not?" Merlin grumbled.

Morgana began to kiss his neck, "Everyone turned their backs on me. Don't you know they'll do the same to you once they know the truth?"

"No," he let out a shaky breath, "Arthur's a better man than Uther."

Morgana stopped kissing him and jerked his jaw towards her.

"Then you're as foolish as everyone thinks you are. I thought you were different," she pushed him away from her.

"Morgana, we need to fix this," Merlin shouted.

"It's too late, now. Goodbye, Merlin," Morgana practically choked on her words and disappeared.

He tried to follow her, only for rocks to fall, blocking his path.

"No," he yelled, "NO! MORGANA!"

* * *

"Merlin, Merlin," a voice called. Merlin opened his eyes. He recognised that voice, "Do not let go, Merlin. Do not give in."

Balinor was kneeling over him and he backed away. Was this another one of Morgana's tricks?

"My son," he smiled.

Merlin inched closer to his father, and he tried not to cry.

"I failed. I lost my magic. I have no reason to go on, the battle is already over, Morgana has won," he said, "I failed, father."

"Only if you accept defeat. But if you fight, if you let hope into your heart, Morgana cannot be victorious," Balinor said.

"I…I care for her. How must I defeat her?" Merlin asked slowly.

"You must not defeat her. You must help her," Balinor said.

"How? I've tried to help her, but she won't listen," he was frustrated, "I can't do it. I'm nothing without magic and she's a High Priestess.

Balinor shook his head, "Merlin, you are more than a son of your father. You are the last Dragonlord. You are son of the earth, the sea, the sky. Magic is the fabric of this world and you were born of that magic. You are magic itself. You cannot lose what you are."

Magic itself? Merlin bit his lip, "How do I find myself again?"

"Believe what your heart knows to be true. That you have always been and always will be," Balinor continued.

What did Merlin's heart know to be true? That he needed magic to save Arthur. That Albion was to flourish. That he needed to save Morgana because he loved her. Good gods he loved her, and she thought he was going to kill her. That's why she trapped him!

Balinor led him towards a glowing light dancing in the crystals, and Merlin looked at him skeptically.

"Move towards the light. Your destiny awaits. Do not be afraid. Trust in what you are. Trust in what will be," Balinor said.

"Can you stay?" Merlin asked.

Balinor shook his head.

"Goodbye, father," he hung his head.

"There are no goodbyes Emrys. For I will always be, as you will always be," Balinor said finally, leaving him.

* * *

This is not what she had planned. Not at all. She placed another rock on Mordred's grave. All of her plans, thwarted again.

"We will get our vengeance," Morgana swore.

She had no one left. Morgause, Aggravaine, Mordred, Merlin. They were all lost to her, dead or otherwise. Mordred had stood up to her, only to come crawling back when he saw how unjust Arthur was. Was she being stupid in waiting for Merlin to do the same?

She had trapped him to keep him from Arthur, and to keep him safe. She'd been foolish to think that after she'd won he'd fall back in her arms. No, he escaped, her idiot escaped and now Arthur was missing, the battle over.

She had to find them. Where Merlin was Arthur was sure to be nearby. She had to end this, once and for all. Should she die in the process, so be it.

* * *

**The next chapter is a lot longer than the others, since it's the end. Please review. **


	12. Chapter 12

**We've reached the end. This chapter's longer than the others, and I hope you like it.**

* * *

"I have magic," Merlin admitted quietly.

Arthur raised a brow, "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin."

Had he been hit in the head?

"I'm not being ridiculous," Merlin insisted.

"Merlin, you're not a sorcerer. I would know," Arthur said. God, that sword to the stomach really hurt.

"I use it for you, Arthur," Merlin said, face scrunching up with tears.

Arthur seemed sceptical so Merlin turned to the fire and created a small dragon out of the flames. He turned to Arthur as if to say 'see?' but the King looked shell-shocked.

"All this time, you've lied to me," Arthur's brows knitted together, "who knew?"

"My mother and Gaius. Lancelot found out. Will from Ealdor. Aggravaine before I killed him…Uther when you brought him back," Merlin listed quietly.

Arthur blinked. He'd killed Aggravaine?

"Mordred," Merlin continued, "from the very beginning, and-"

"Morgana," Arthur practically spat, "you told her?"

"I was under a spell, Arthur," Merlin said desperately, "I would never betray you or Camelot."

That much wasn't a lie. He was still not himself when he blurted out his secret.

"Leave me," Arthur commanded, turning his body away from him. It was a bit difficult to do as he was slumped against a log.

"Arthur," Merlin said quietly.

"Go, Merlin," he said harshly.

Merlin stood and slunk over to his spot. Gaius had gone to collect more firewood, and Gwen and the knights were safe in Camelot. The battle was over. He'd saved them, but Arthur lay dying, Mordred was dead, and Morgana was who knows where.

Where was she?

* * *

Gaius thought it was a lost cause to try and get Arthur to Avalon to heal him. Merlin had to try anyway. Gaius had told Arthur how important Merlin was, and Arthur seemed to listen. Arthur was the Once and Future King, and his friend. Slowly, but surely, he had come to accept that Merlin had magic, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off of Merlin's shoulders.

"You cheated," Arthur said, realising that magic is what nearly tripped him up when they had fought all those years ago.

"You were going to kill me," Merlin tried to smile.

"All this time and you never asked for any recognition," Arthur said, sounding nearly affectionate.

"Not why I did it," Merlin attempted a smile. He couldn't though, when his friend was near death.

Arthur was growing paler by the minute, and they still had to cross the lake to Avalon.

"Well, well, well," came a taunting voice, "look who we have here."

Damn. Why did she always seem to pop up from out of nowhere? He had wanted to find her alone, so they could talk like civilised people.

"Morgana," Arthur greeted his sister, "I s'pose congratulations are in order?"

Merlin looked between the two Pendragons, his heart beating mile a minute.

"You think I wanted this, Arthur?" Morgana said in a low voice, "we grew up together. I cared for you."

"You have a funny way of showing it. You used to be so sweet," Arthur shook his head, trying not to let the pain mar his voice.

"Until everyone I held dear turned their backs on me. You don't know what it's like to be afraid of being hated for who you are," Morgana shook her head.

Arthur glanced between Merlin and Morgana. He was Uther Pendragon's son, the son of the man who started a war on magic. Of course she'd be afraid, Merlin too.

"I would have accepted you," Arthur said.

"Would you have?" Morgana snarled.

"Eventually," Arthur said, turning his gaze to Merlin.

Morgana gave a bitter laugh, "Of course. Now you know why you're not dead yet. Your precious Merlin keeps saving you."

"Morgana," Merlin's voice was soft, "it's over."

"No," she shook her head, still looking at Arthur, "I hate you."

"I deserve it. I should have stopped father from killing innocents. But you're no saint either, Morgana. You killed, too," Arthur said quietly.

"No, I'm a High Priestess," Morgana's lips quirked into a hint of a smile.

Arthur closed his eyes, "Before I die, I beg your forgiveness. Truce?" he asked.

"Arthur, what-?" Merlin said in confusion.

Morgana remained quiet, surprised by the offer. Arthur outstretched his hand to shake hers, and Morgana wondered if it was all a trick.

"Arthur, no. You can't die. It's your destiny to bring about peace in Albion and legalise magic!" Merlin tried to step between them.

Morgana whirled around to face him, eyes dark. More things kept from her.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"The Great Dragon, Kilgarrah, told me it was my destiny to protect Arthur so he could bring magic back to the kingdom," Merlin said.

"More secrets," Morgana laughed, bitter taste on her tongue, "how do you know it wasn't his way of wiping out the Pendragon line?"

Merlin looked baffled, as if he'd never even considered that. Kilgarrah had been a friend, though. A cryptic, vague friend.

Arthur snorted, "I'm not even surprised anymore."

The two siblings shared a moment of camaraderie, and Arthur cleared his throat.

"Morgana, I said once I'd sacrifice my place on the throne to see you live another sunrise. I stand by that," he said.

He clutched his stomach in pain and Merlin rushed to his side. Morgana looked at the two of them, lost. Had he really said that? Was her quest for vengeance all for naught?

"We must get him to Avalon at once," Morgana said decidedly. Merlin and Arthur stared at her, stunned.

She looked at Merlin, "Get him up."

Merlin helped Arthur to his feet, and Morgana held Arthur's other arm. She tried to smile at her brother, and Merlin felt his chest constrict.

They placed Arthur in the boat, and squeezed in next to him.

"Morgana," Merlin said quietly.

"We'll talk later, Merlin," she said, eyes focused on the island in the distance.

She could live and die peacefully knowing Arthur was safe. If it was his destiny, so be it. Had she known, maybe she wouldn't have been so angry at him and Uther and everyone. Maybe. She liked to think she hadn't been too far gone at one point. Had she known, she might've helped Arthur and Merlin so people with magic could live freely and peacefully. This was the only thing she could now to help those with magic now that her army had been decimated.

Avalon was the place where all things produced themselves. The fields there had no need of the ploughs of the farmers and all cultivation was lacking except what nature provides. The ground of its own accord produces everything instead of merely grass, and people live there a hundred years or more. Some called it the afterlife, or land between worlds, a bit like the Isle of the Blessed. It was where life and death met, where the injured healed, or where lost souls went to rest. It was the only place Arthur could be saved.

"Couldn't Aithusa heal him?" Morgana asked softly, "she saved me once."

"You weren't stabbed with a sword forged in dragonfire," Merlin answered. If only saving Arthur would've been that easy.

The boat hit the shore, and Morgana got out first.

"I summon the sisters of Avalon and beseech them to help my brother, King Arthur," Morgana said regally.

Merlin helped Arthur up, but the King's eyes were lidded and his breathing was laboured.

Eight women wearing flowing dresses and robes appeared: Moronoe, Mazoe, Gliten, Glitonea, Gliton, Tyronoe, Thiten and Thiton.

"Arthur Pendragon is no friend to the Old Religion," the first one, Moronoe said.

"He is destined to bring peace, allowing all people to live without fear of persecution," Merlin said, trying to convince them.

"Emrys," one of them, a redhead by the name of Gliten smiled, "trying so hard to fulfill his destiny."

Morgana scowled, "You may be the sisters of Avalon but I am the last High Priestess in the mortal realm. Save Arthur, and magic will be restored to all the lands in Albion."

Tyronoe, the blonde, smiled.

"We know," she said, stepping aside to let them through.

Morgana and Merlin exchanged a glance. Had they just ensured their help and Arthur's life?

* * *

Arthur sat on his horse on the way back to Camelot. Morgana was seated on Merlin's horse, and Merlin walked alongside them. Arthur cast a look to his sister and manservant. They had saved him. Magic wasn't evil. Uther was wrong. It was Uther who had hardened Morgana's heart. If he had accepted her, she wouldn't have been so hurt and crazed…and oh God he remembered what Sarrum had done to her. He almost allied himself with the man who tortured his sister. It would take time to for them to get past their issues, but he was willing to try if she was.

Merlin kept glancing at Morgana. It had been Arthur who saved her by accepting her, and she in turn saved Arthur. He really had nothing to do with it. Merlin had seen her kind, generous side when he was doing her bidding (amongst other things) so he knew she wasn't too far-gone. By showing her kindness and friendship, he had saved her, or at least softened her heart for Arthur to get through to her. It was just one big cycle of saving. Her brother's acceptance was the first step to helping her.

Morgana veered the horse to the left, and Arthur glanced at her.

"Camelot's the other way," he told his sister.

"I'm not going back," Morgana blinked, "I'll be home."

"Camelot is your home," Arthur said decidedly, "you'll return with us."

"Do you think your people would accept a murderous sorceress back with open arms?" Morgana scowled.

"Those people loved you more than me once, and will do so again," Arthur said with such certainty Morgana thought he'd lost his mind.

"On one condition," Morgana said.

"Name it," Arthur nodded.

"I'm imprisoned first for my crimes," Morgana said.

"Morgana, no," Merlin stopped walking and stared at her, "you've paid enough."

"We've all paid," Arthur said quietly, "name another condition."

She licked her lip, "I must be punished."

"We could put you in the stocks and throw vegetables at you," Merlin suggested, remembering his first day in Camelot.

Morgana laughed, a genuine, happy laugh. Merlin's heart swelled.

"I must apologise to Gwen, to the knights," Morgana choked back more laughter and turned serious, "I've caused so much destruction."

She had made Gwaine fight her men with a wooden sword. She kept them hungry, starved. She tried to kill Gwen, she shot arrows at innocent people. She was certainly Uther Pendragon's daughter.

"No more than Uther," Merlin rolled his eyes, walking along once more.

"Fine, different condition," Morgana shook her head, "you make Merlin Court Sorcerer. You'd be dead a thousand times over without him."

"Done," Arthur said easily, surprising both sorcerers.

"Morgana can be Court High Priestess, then," Merlin suggested.

She smiled softly at Merlin, "I don't think they'd trust me."

"They will," Merlin assured her.

* * *

This was how it was supposed to be. King Arthur and Queen Guinevere sat on their thrones, pardoning Morgana for her war crimes.

The court watched in amazement as the High Priestess grew teary eyed. She wore a simple blue dress without the finery and silk of her old outfits, but she looked more like the Lady Morgana they knew and loved. Her hair had been brushed and hung down her back in loose curls. A small, simple circlet of silver flowers rested atop her head. It didn't match the beauty of the King and Queen's crowns, but she didn't want it to. She was never meant to be a Queen, or a princess.

"Thank you, my lord, my lady. I am sorry," Morgana knelt before them.

"Welcome back, Morgana," Gwen smiled at her old friend, and Morgana smiled back. Everyone deserved a second chance, after all. Gwen was still concerned, but Morgana's words had been simple and heartfelt. She believed her. When she stood in front of the court she didn't see a High Priestess hellbent on destruction, or the Lady Morgana. She saw her friend, Morgana, Gorlois's daughter.

Morgana took a breath. Good God, she had tried to kill Gwen, sweet, lovely Gwen. Merlin looked at her with those blue eyes and she lost it then and there.

Her shoulders wracked with silent sobs, and Merlin rushed to her side.

"Shh, it's okay," Merlin whispered, pulling her away from the prying eyes and curiosity of the court, "we're all okay now."

They left the throne room, hiding in the alcove. Morgana cried freely. High Priestesses cried, after all.

"I'm a monster," Morgana clutched Merlin's shirt in her hand and cried into his chest.

His hand ran up and down her back soothingly. The softness of the satin and cotton felt different under his fingers than the rough spun dresses she wore in her exile.

"You're not," Merlin soothed.

"I'm filled with hate and contempt and rage," she laughed sadly.

"No," Merlin backed away and lifted her chin so she looked him in the eye, "you saved me. You saved Arthur. You saved an entire kingdom."

"I only did it so I could practice freely," Morgana bit her lip. Her, and other magic users. She'd lost sight of that when she wanted the throne.

"Bull," Merlin smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Morgana moved her hands to his shoulders and stood on her toes. She kissed him and Merlin grinned.

"This is improper, my lady. Anyone could see us," Merlin said quietly.

"Shut up, Merlin," Morgana tried not to smile.

He pulled away, "Arthur's going to proclaim me Court Sorcerer."

"Your destiny's fulfilled," Morgana smiled.

"Yeah, it is," he took her hand and squeezed it.

They walked back into the throne room, hiding in the corner, fingers still intertwined.

"Merlin," Arthur called him over.

Merlin reluctantly let go of Morgana's hand, and she nodded, urging him to go.

"My lord," Merlin bowed in front of him.

"I proclaim you, Merlin, known as Emrys to the Druids, as Court Sorcerer and Advisor," Arthur said, smiling at his friend.

Gwen, too was smiling, as if she had known all along. Merlin wouldn't have been surprised if she had.

Gaius clapped his hands together out of pride, and the Gwaine took up the applause. Percival, Elyan, and Leon joined in, and soon the court did. They all liked Merlin well enough. They were surprised when the King announced Merlin was a sorcerer who had been keeping Arthur safe for all these years, but they accepted it.

Merlin's gaze travelled to Morgana, who was clapping, small smile on her face.

* * *

It had been nearly two months. For two months Merlin had been sneaking from his room at Gaius's (because he didn't want to live in the castle, thank you very much) to Morgana's chambers late at night. Some habits were hard to break. Eventually, word got to the servants who tittered about and cast him knowing glances, but they knew better than to inform the King, or so Merlin hoped.

Morgana had been isolating herself. Every time she would walk in the palace or outside she'd be assaulted with images of the destruction she had caused. She confined herself to her old chambers, which were surprisingly untouched. Her dresses were in her wardrobe, her vanity the way it looked the last she'd seen it. Even the room smelled the same.

There was a knock on the door and she opened it.

Merlin stood before her, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"My lady," he greeted with a small grin.

Morgana peered into the corridors, then grabbed Merlin, pulling him inside. She pulled on his stupid brown jacket (why he wouldn't accept the new clothes fitting of Advisor she didn't know) and tossed it to the floor.

"Whoa," Merlin put his hands up in surrender, "I came here to talk."

"Talk fast, then," Morgana crossed her arms.

Dammit she was wearing her nightdress, all thin and gauzy and silky.

"You rarely leave this room," Merlin started.

She raised a brow, "Neither do you."

"Yes, and Arthur now insists on a wedding because of the servants' idle gossip," Merlin rolled his eyes, "but that's not the point."

Morgana wrinkled her nose. Arthur may be the King but she still wielded more power in her pinky than all his knights combined.

"Merlin," Morgana pouted.

"You shouldn't coop yourself up. I know you're trying to punish yourself since Arthur and Gwen won't, but you've paid the price, already. You don't have to prove anything," Merlin said softly, and kissed her cheek.

"I killed people, Merlin," she shook her head. She had to wake up and deal with that at all times.

"Me too," Merlin said, "and I carry the guilt every day. That doesn't mean we stop living."

Morgana looked over his shoulder.

"Maybe I should stop," Morgana mumbled, "I've caused too much trouble. I'm evil. Who's to know I won't…"

Merlin held the sides of her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I am not going to lose you, not again. You're not evil, I know you're not," Merlin pressed his forehead to hers.

"But-" she tried to protest.

"No. Evil is made, not born. Circumstances made you lose sight of that, but you're good, Morgana, I know you are," Merlin said quietly.

Morgana shook her head and took a step back.

"No," she whispered.

"Damn it, I love you," Merlin confessed loudly, leaving Morgana silent. "I loved you when I first saw you, but you were a Lady, the King's ward, and I could never…" he shook his head, "and then you told me you had magic and I wanted so badly to tell you that I did too, that you weren't alone, but everything, everyone kept telling me you were evil. I tried to tell them you weren't, that you had a good heart. If I hadn't pushed you away…" he looked at her, lost.

"If you hadn't pushed me away I still might've turned up like this," Morgana said in a small voice, "there's no certainties."

Merlin let out a small laugh, "I hated you when you kidnapped me. The first time. But not really, I don't think I could ever really hate you. And now, now I'm in love with you. I know you. I know you crinkle your nose when you don't get your way, and that you close yourself off because you want to seem strong. You _are_ strong. Please, Morgana, just _let me love you_."

Morgana stayed quiet. Merlin's heart started to hurt because she wouldn't even look at him. He'd ruined it. Him and his stupid feelings had ruined everything. She mumbled something, and Merlin couldn't hear.

"I love you," she murmured in a low, soft voice, "I…I kidnapped you because I hated you. I wanted to kill you, but I couldn't bring myself to."

She took a breath. Merlin knew how that felt. How many times had he not been able to go through with killing her? Did she just admit she loved him? He must be dreaming.

"I thought the enchantment was the only way to have a friend, to not be alone anymore. I never planned to fall in love with you. I'm in love with you, Merlin, and it scares me. I was terrified you'd hurt me, or that you'd die. I'm still terrified. I'm not Arthur's only enemy, you know. You protect him, but who'll protect you?"

Her eyes welled with tears, and she blinked them away. She couldn't cry, not now.

"You don't have to be afraid. I know you'll protect me. I'm here. I'll always be here," Merlin inched closer to her.

Morgana hugged him close to her, and he let out a breath of relief. They were both broken, but they could help fix each other. It would take some time to heal all wounds, but they could do it.

* * *

**So, we've reached the end. Thank you so, so much for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing. It means a great deal to me that people like this. I'm in the midst of writing (another) modern AU at the moment, but won't be posting til it's essentially finished. I don't know how long that will take, but I'm just putting it out there.**

Once again, thank you for your support and lovely reviews.


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